Sheffield is a city of complex chaos and a complicity of beauty within. A grey, wind swept city-town sat on the top of 7 hills glitters in the sun.
Sheffield is a city unlike no other. For one, unlike its sister cities, Sheffield is alone separated from any and every northern city. Its cold winds blow harsh through the uncertainty that echoes its baron-cobbled roads.
The city is quiet. It knows something is coming. The men are at war, the younger kids are in the steal works and the women have all gone to work to be emancipated from the kitchen. The only people not at war are a group young of students and academics that are working away at the top of the hill.
They, like their counter partners, are helping to fight the war. But not with bombs, or gas, or planes. But with something much more magnificent and beautiful. They are planning a new city to live in. They’re marking new canals and lakes, and train lines onto architectural urban landscape plans. They are taking the steal works and rebuilding them further into the misty moors. A new shopping centre? Not a problem.
The best part of this city is that nobody will live there.
Whether this is a story that is true or not, it shows just how much an illusion can give us hope, a rendition for new ideals and a platform to help our situations.