Worst pies in London
The Worst Pies in London - Sweeney Todd Soundtrack

Descend the stairs into the festering pit of darkness that is Knockturn Alley: ignore skittering rats and the terrible smell.

The usual.

He pushed the door open with a creak and side-stepped the only other customer, who may as well have been a ghost. They were all ghosts here, not one wished to be noticed.

“Mug of ale and a pie.”

There was nothing worse and yet the grease and grit of a festering pie was worth the relative silence and secrecy. Yes, if you could stomach the food and the clientele, then Moribunds was just the place to be.

Lying in bed with the covers over her head, she rolled up in an even tighter fetal position with her arms hugging herself so tightly that it she felt as though if she let go she would fall apart. But she was already falling apart, crumbling, like ash between someone's fingers.

Glancing over the words she had just written, the violet eyed girl attached the parchment to the foot of the owl and sent it on its way to deliver news that made her feel like a stranger to not only the receiver but to herself as well.

"Good bye."

Dear Diary,
I think I understand why I hate them so much, now. I've reached this conclusion a couple of days ago when I couldn't write a single stupid negative thing about neither one of them (it was a method a lame doctor mentioned on telly, totally blows). I had brought a loooong parchment, made a cup of green tea, put the kittens to sleep then plopped down on bed ready to go on and on and on about those backstabbers.

Eventually, I wrote one thing across the page:
I'm mad I don't know how to be their friend again.

The Ministry office was dark except for the faint, orange glow emitting from the fireplace that casted a shadow on the man at the desk; glass of Firewhiskey was in one hand and the picture of a blonde woman was clutched in the other.

“We could have had whatever we wanted Izzy, but you betrayed me.” Armen whispered angrily as he took another large sip. He watched his ex’s face turn into a frown and then she left the frame.

The Transportation Department Head growled and smashed his glass into the fire grate. He would show her and the MLE.

The floorboards groaned beneath her footfalls. Kicking up the dust, Emily watched the particles glimmer and flicker in the low light beaming from the greasy window. She hadn't been home in years, and its appearance hadn't changed in that time... with the exception of the dust and grime.

Stopping in the hall outside the sitting room, a tall and once handsome portrait hung on its fixture. Three bright, cheerful faces looked down at her. It wasn't even her mother's or father's that surprised her most, it was her own young and deceptive smile. Even in estrangement, their lie lived on.

The warm water running down her face, stinging her eyes, made it hard to see, but even then she could tell there was something different about him from the way he stared back at her. He was so... hypnotizing... magnetizing... fascinating in a way that made her feel like she was floating and drowning at the same time.

She pulled him closer to the water, rubbing the shampoo into his hair with tiny circles. Maybe it was this, the way he reacted to everyday objects like he was from a whole other world. Were there no showers in his dimension?