I feel them hitting me, over and over, always a new place to strike where I am unguarded. I am completely surrounded. There is nothing to do but put up my collar and pull the umbrella closer to my head.

I wrap my coat with intent and face the blugeoning wind and bombs of water, and start to make my way through the labyrinth of streets that surround London. But it seems that all the other habitants who have adopted this city as their home have also decided to cut out the crowds, and have, in turn brought them here too. There is nowhere to hide or anywhere to escape. Doorways are filled, sheltering bankers and vagabonds alike. For once, everyone is equal. The weather takes all.

As I stride forwards down the longer crowded road, there is an almost choreographed feel to the London bustle. People all dancing the same routine around the puddles, bobbing thier umbrella's over the beggars head as they pass systematically.

It's 5pm.

hometime.