I'd walk by the street of what used to be my city until a year ago with a sense that didn't match how I'd like to have felt. Now, a year down time I have a new place I call home. Every bar and pub down the street from home feels like a character come alive from a book. Each one draws me in with an impending sense of suspense. I know a story must be had from a visit to each; I find it extremely conflicting to choose which one I'd like to savour this day. Home feels like I'm alive in a Charles Dickens novel, but maybe I'll call out to Heaney soon enough.
