Young Professionals

You know how it is; you go to uni somewhere, you graduate, you stick around long enough to despise the following generation of students. We’d lived in about 6 different flats together since uni. In the same city, we’d gone from being practically nocturnal to keeping to the rigid 9 to 5. We used to worry about how close we were to cheap booze, now it was all about transport links.

This current situation was our own fault really. We kept putting it off and putting it off until there were only 3 weeks left. 3 weeks to find a new place in a city full of renters. Not to mention all the other crap going on. We both took the day off to blitz it and get the job done.

We were shown slums, student houses, penthouses and palaces. One house was right in the heart of the red light district, another was so nice we wouldn’t be able to afford to do anything but sit at home and enjoy it. Nothing seemed quite right.

We went to corners of the city that I didn’t even like to stop at the traffic lights at. Other corners that would have meant an expensive taxi ride home from town every Friday night. And further corners that we hadn’t ventured in to since our student days. We both enjoyed the trip down memory lane but neither of us wanted to live in studentsville anymore.

Just as the first of the rush hour traffic was rolling in, just as all hope seemed lost, we arrived at the docks. My interest was piqued by fact that we were right by the cinema and then I saw the view. I hadn’t realised how stressed I was until I saw the calm waters flowing below me, carrying my worries away with them. We took it.

I’ve spent every first hour home from work with a glass of red wine, staring at that view ever since.

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