Iris94

Walking down one of the most famous streets in London, I feel myself being pulled into a dreamlike state as the light steadily dims and a yellow fog comes drifting from the distant years of a bygone age. With every step I take, the tourists seem more and more alien, the sounds more subdued and distant, and just as I stop outside the black door marked 221B, the street is transformed to its full Victorian glory. The brave gas lamps battle the heavy, yellow fog, barely managing to pierce through it for a few feet, before their orange light fails. The whole street has a ghostlike atmosphere, adding to my feeling of it not being real. It all seem