And so came the time of change upon the land.
Ravaged by plague and the mass of humanity seething in the Metropolis.
The welcome to strangers had pushed the sinews of London to breaking point.
Mayor Khan, for it were he, enjoyed his state patronage, but was happy to see the City fall to ruin assailed by vagabonds, for he did not like King Boris and was happy too see his realm fall into anarchy.
But the people of London were discontent, they did not like the anarchy and the did not like the plague.
At first they stayed in their homes, awaiting the dark times to pass. But the dark times did not pass.
So eventually, they began to leave. The newcomes could have the anarchy, the Londoners wanted it no more. They wanted the promised land, the land of the shires, where there was not anarchy, where there were green fields instead of burning concrete buildings and where they could hope to escape the plague.
The Exodus had begun.
(This post is inspired by my Estate Agent friends who assure me that currently any house in the home counties is selling at asking price within a few days of going to market)