Two Tales of a City

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

As the dawn began to break across the skyline of the metropolis they were tired already. It had been a long night and, as they began to tire, all they could hear were the sounds of the port. Well, the sound of the port decanter being crashed against the rims of fine cut glass goblets. It would be time to leave the club soon into the blinking daylight and back to their busy lives.

Well why shouldn't they enjoy themselves, they deserved it. They were all ‘self made’ men. Self made if you call inheriting a family trust or business, a private education, Oxbridge ‘self made’. Oh yes, they had certainly faced challenges but they had overcome them. It was what made them so courageous and determined that everyone should have to face personal challenges and win through. To be tested by the fire. If they could do it, so could anyone. A safety net is only there for people who fear their own abilities. Remove it and everyone will discover their true worth.

As the dawn began to break across the skyline of the metropolis she was tired already. Another night without sleep wondering how she would pay, the bills, feed the children, heat the flat. This wasn’t how she had imagined her life but one debt had spiraled and her partner leaving had hemorrhaged the order of her life. Short term loans had only accelerated the fall. With heavy limbs and head she pushed back the duvet to start another day with clouds.

The television switched on to fill her head with noise and drown out her fears. Today the noise brought more to worry as a reporter on childhood poverty says ‘Children who grow up in poverty tend to do less well in education because of factors in their home background, for example having parents who are more stressed, less able to afford educational activities and resources and less well-placed to help them with their school work.’ She had no wealthy parents to run to, she had no opportunities to recover. She just had pills.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epo of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.