Description
In the heart of the bustling city of London, where the neon lights flicker and the sounds of traffic never cease, there stood a small bookstore tucked away in a quiet corner. Its sign, weathered and faded, read "The Hudson's Books and Stuff , store number 221B." he outside of the building wasn't impressive despite being on a very populous street of London, it looked like it hadn't been renovated since the day it first opened. As John stood outside the store, he started having second thoughts about his decision. It had been 2 months since he got shot in Afghanistan, 1 month since his pension got reduced due to "cost management" and a week since his last mandatory therapy session. "Couldn't they have just gotten rid of that blasted session instead of cutting my bloody pension", he thought as he sighed. His therapist had told him that needed to find a way to "connect with society again". Apparently now his lack of socialising was to blame for his limp. "This is so bloody stupid", he thought as he built up the courage to open the door. His life was never the same again-
Chapter 1: First Impressions, Am I Right?
