Soho Square

Typed up from earlier.

For the first time in many months I am home. Not home where I was brought up, or home where I live now, but home where I feel like I belong. And feel comfortable. Home in the tranquility of Soho Square. The trees are swaying gently and whispering in the breeze; there is only the very slight murmur of chatter and traffic. I wish I lived in one of the towering buildings surrounding the square, it would be so convenient. I'd get so much done. I'd be writing around the clock. It's such an inspiring little place here. It's bang in the middle of central London, but it's comparably it's so quiet. I'm writing about Annabelle and Charlie, some fictional characters I've been writing about for a while, at the moment, and Yaz just texted me with an idea for a new story, so I've started that. I've written a couple of pages, it's turned into quite a sordid tale. But I like it. It's different to my usual stuff. I've been sitting here thinking, and trying to sort my head out. It really needs sorting out, but I'm beginning to feel a little bit better. I've been so tense since the fire. Going to the vigil at Trafalgar Square later, in memory of Ian Baynham who was murdered there last year. It's basically a big anti-hate-crime thing. I'm really starting to fill my notebook up now. It's great flicking through all the pages of my writing.. I can't decide whether I like full notebooks or empty notebooks better. Anyway. Back to writing stories. I'm too inspired for simply blogging.