Description of the Streets at Night

The Smell of alcohol wafted through the street, it reeked so bad it could make anybody feel nauseous. The bitter chill of the London night, so cold the doorway felt like an arctic glacier. Street lights beaming so brightly, the sight could make someone squint immediately. The aroma of pollution so strong, you could taste it on your tongue. The golden rust, covering the bars of the steps by the doorway, mould streaming down from the seeping gutter. People would walk past you, either giving you disgusted looks, stereotyping you as a drunk homeless person, thinking if they gave you money you’d blow it all on alcohol or drugs. Only very rarely would you see the kind-hearted people, although they’d only spare some coppers- if that.
Suddenly a small pink piece of paper wafted towards you through the crisp air, the colours stood out through the blinding street lights. After a struggle to get up from the tangle of blankets on the floor a flood of realisation sank in, this was a chance of hope. Grabbing the small piece of paper, it read: Bank of Scotland, £100 note.
The feeling of Exhilaration and relief washed through you, it was a chance of hope! Picking up the note and carefully slipping it into the thin jacket, which was no use because of the ice-like temperaures.
Walking along the streets, you had the sight of people still looking at you and stereotyping you as a pickpocket or a drug addict. The sound of rowdy drunks, throwing abusive insults, if only they knew!
Suddenly, you came across a fluorescent sign, glittering and gleaming stating: ‘Bed and Breakfast.’ Sighing, the thought of a comfortable bed, a decent meal and heating- too good to be true!
Walking in to the stylishly decorated building, you felt immediately out of place. Ignoring the looks, you paid for the room and jumped straight onto the soft, luxurious bed and you almost instantly fell into a deep, relaxed