Barbican and Brown Leather
Dear Editor,
I read with dismay — and no small measure of confusion — about the closure of Barbican Station due to flooding. While the inconvenience is undeniable, I must admit my first thought was not for the transport chaos but for my new leather shoes, which I had planned to debut there today. Fate, it seems, has conspired against both commuters and cobblers alike.
You see, these are not just any leather shoes. They’re sleek, shiny, and exude a confidence I hoped to channel while striding through London. But now, with Barbican submerged, the shoes remain untested, their soles yet to feel the rhythm of the Underground. Are they a symbol of resilience, waiting for the waters to recede? Or, like Barbican itself, a victim of forces beyond their control?
Complicating matters further is my ongoing sausage addiction, which has added layers of complexity to an already perplexing day. Can I really justify heading into the city, risking both my shoes and my dignity, just to procure a Cumberland ring? Or do I hunker down, leather - bound feet on a footstool, with a frying pan full of comfort sausages sizzling away in protest against the flood?
And, of course, one must wonder: is the flooding at Barbican Station somehow connected to my recent footwear purchase or my culinary obsession? Did the cosmos, seeing my pride in these shoes, decide to humble me with soggy transport news? Or perhaps it’s simply karmic balance — too many sausages, not enough gratitude for dry socks.
Whatever the truth, I remain hopeful. The floodwaters will recede, Barbican will reopen, and my leather shoes will one day make their triumphant debut. Until then, I’ll be here, frying sausages and pondering life’s mysteries.
Yours in damp confusion and carnivorous optimism,
A. Soulful Sausage Seeker