I’m 31 today.
I wake up in a cozy hotel room in Bristol. As I pull the curtains away from the window, the grey and rainy weather reveals itself to me. It looks as if the weather shows solitude to my flooded soul one day earlier.
Yesterday I was walking freely the streets of Bristol when I stumbled across a familiar bridge. It’s been 4 years since I was last here. Some unknown force is pulling me into the direction of the venue that changed my life forever. First I have to cross the bridge to get there. And I have to be brave about it.
Each step I take forward is a step into the past. I remember arriving to Bristol by train on that warm Friday night. I left straight from the office, so I didn’t have time to change my clothes. But I took my party clothes and make-up with me in a bag. From the train station I walked into the city centre, and stopped for a quick dinner in a Caribbean restaurant. Before leaving the place, I went into the toilet and took my casual clothes off. I put on a Motley Crue top, a pair of black shiny trousers and the statement leather boots. I checked my look in the small mirror, applied red lipstick and styled my hair with a touch of hair mousse. I felt beautiful, wild and excited about the band I was about to see live that night.
Walking down the street, I came at a bridge and saw two young women collecting donations for charity. They seemed nice and friendly, so I approached them to ask if they knew where the venue is located. They were unsure. From the opposite direction, three guys walked by “We could ask them” one girl suggested. (Part 1)
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