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< < In London, the traffic never stops....

....The young boy eagerly took a gulp of fresh air as he dashed through the heavy oak doors and into the warm sunshine, looking back at the church where he was once born; standing tall, its familiar spire stretched up toward the cloudless sky. The gleaming bells chimed for midday as he watched the dancing colours of the stained-glass windows in the sunlight.

He skipped over to join a cluster of friends on the pavement, who were all admiring the convoy of trucks rumbling past on the main road.

That was when he saw her, through the gaps in the traffic, the most beautiful girl in the world, perched on a bench on the opposite side of the road. She was around his age, with straight dark hair and an unseasonably warm looking jacket. Her face was dirty, her trousers were torn, but she wore a curious, content smile on her face....

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