The View From The Cab.

Some of the most interesting and colourful characters found in London are some of the most unnoticeable if you’re not looking carefully enough. Newspaper vendors on Street corners, peddling the latest sensationalism in rain wind and sun, see all different folk passing by and have rich myriads of tales of the rich and poor to tell if asked. Hotel doorman, those that simply open and close your way in or way out but always with a smile no matter what their own life has thrown at them, have brushed shoulders with some that are idolized.

There is one man in London that sticks out because of the mannerisms who uses to promote his wares; The Big Issue. For those that don’t know, The Big Issue is a magazine that the homeless can sell on the Streets to provide themselves with an income and thereby a sense of worth and pride. The man I speak of is unique. He stands on the corner of where The Strand meets Trafalgar Square and may of one time known better surroundings and an easier life-style. He knows that he will never become a millionaire nor for that matter live better than ‘hand to mouth,’ but the effort and entertainment he provides deserves your recognition if passing. He pirouettes holding his copies in outstretched arms smiling as he asks; “Hows your day?” never seemingly noticing the ignorance of the uninterested. “Stop” I want to shout, “engage with him,” find out what you don’t know by plain conversation. Why do we seek out the false celebrities in life when some real home-grown ones are walked passes everyday. If you are looking for inspiration look no further than the person nearby.


About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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One Response to The View From The Cab.

  1. I’m so jealous! You must have notebooks full of arterial to write about 😉


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