As he walked in the door, he knew something was strange. Not exactly bad strange but different, like something was going to happen here or something had already happened here. Everything looked beautiful, perfect, precisely what he had been looking for, but something was not quite right. His estate agent watched him expectantly. This was the 10th loft he had shown him in 5 days, he was running out of places to show him in the post codes he was looking for. It was a new renovation on Hopton Street just a minute from the Tate Modern. Tom walked into the living space and closed the door behind him.
It was a huge loft, a rare thing in central London, and it had a huge price tag to go along with it. He wasn’t worried about the money, he was doing very well. He had more work than he could have ever imagined, he had even turned down several projects because he just couldn’t fit them in. He couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong.
I don’t even live in London, and I have dreamed of having a loft in this neighborhood for years.