English Creative Writing on Change
It was a wet, gloomy day and I was nearing the end of my journey on the old train home, after one of the most bumpy rides ever, it was like my teeth had been shaken from my head. As we pulled up to the station. I was approached by some old freaky men who had plans for me, but lucky enough the police were patrolling the carriages. As I stepped off the train my foot slid straight from underneath me on the plastic disks near the edge of the platform, as I got up I noticed everyone looking at me, but none willing to help me out, so it was a little embarrassing.
As I strolled off on my 2km walk home, which I usually ride my bike just that it was in being serviced, made the trip long and also made getting back to the apartment a scary adventure on the streets around here especially in the few minutes before being completely dark. On the way home I saw the usual amount of people hanging their clothes on a line suspended from building to building, having the kindness they do waving, smiling and saying hello. Which again makes the trip longer if they want to have a bit of a chatter.
As I continued up the vigorous climb of the main road, which is when the bike would come in handy, I knew of a rundown alley way where the homeless would live and prey on the scraps of food from the dominoes pizza in the huge trash cans. I approached the alley and there seemed to be no homeless, just an overflowing bin from dominoes. It was like a tornado had lifted everyone and all their possessions except for the bolted to the ground bin and moved them to another location.
This made me eager to walk through the alley way as usually the homeless would beg for money, even once I was assaulted and made give funds. But seeing as they weren't around I had no reason to not take the shortcut which would cut roughly seven hundred metres and eliminate the rest of the vigorous climb.
As I approached the old run down alley where the concrete render was...