Beginning of the epilogue

England, London – Present day

The pale, yellow coated rays of sunlight refracted against the glass of all the congested, high-rise buildings in the densely populated high street. Sounds of constant horning was blared out by the screaming of tourists and innocent bystanders complaining of heat and obstruction. Petrol, diesel and sweat neatly blanketed the aroma of cigarette ash and tobacco. Patches of brightly illuminated sunrays coupled with cool dark patches of shade decorated the road and walkways. Lines filled with men in suits, woman in sundresses and teens with khaki slacks, circulated every store and food court along the neat, freshly cobble-stoned pavement.

“What can I get you?” piercing the constant murmurs muttering throughout the food court, as baristas constantly stepped forward taking order after order. Rushing from coffee machine to table. The constant movement causing their black aprons, with the name ‘Starbucks’ embroidered into it, to brush against the slight breeze. The hustle and bustle not one foreign to the coffee giant.

Directly, adjacent to the coffee giant stood erect, an abandoned, solitary derelict shop. The name beginning to fade away, into the yellow tinge of its signboard. ‘Stubborn cup’ could just be made out through the darker color scheme held by each individual letter. Unlike its competitor an element of caution surrounded the tinged off building, reinforced by the ‘closed for maintenance’ poster stuck on the front door.