Big Ben

Big Ben chimed mournfully in the distance, indicating that it was time. I grabbed the basket and rushed to the entrance of the gardens, not knowing what might happen. One thing was certain- nothing would come between me and Crimson. The night smelled sweetly of the freshly picked roses I held in my arms and the home made bread contained in the basket I was carrying. As I ran down the alley-way, a gust of wind swept by, bringing with it the first cold omen of bitter winter. It seemed as if the city were summoning with all its ancient, hoping to end the already frosty fall with a layer of freshly fallen snow.