”England is mine, it owes me a living, but ask me why, and I'll spit in your eye. But we cannot cling to the old dreams anymore. No, we cannot cling to those dreams.”

Still Ill — The Smiths

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Polly had sent John to the bakery, unfortunately. John hated being sent as an errand boy, he was so much more than that. He huffed as he walked down the street with a frown.

The bakery was just right around the corner. It’s not like John hadn’t ever been here before, because this isn’t the first time Polly’s sent him. He rounded the corner, stepping into the small shop.

It was a bit dingy, but this was Small Heath after all. Not much this poor family can do. People stared at him as he simply rolled his eyes, walking up to the counter.

He had opened his mouth to speak, but when he looked up, they suddenly vanished. It was as if they’d been taken right of out his mouth. For the first time ever, John Shelby was speechless.