UNIVERSITY TOWN OR NOT

I’ve not gone to Oxford today, which is a shame because it’s almost the perfect autumn day for it.

Whenever I walk from the bus stop to the train station, I always peek down the side streets that lead, I know, to the leafy colleges and spires, and every week I wish I had just a little more time for a great adventure…

Just a little more time.

I nearly studied at Oxford, you know. I applied to Keble College. I wonder what kind of life I’d have had if that had all worked out; if I hadn’t messed up my A Levels? Would this bustling city of academics and tourists have been my university town? Would my memories swirl around Oxford now like my heart sometimes swirls around Bath? What would I be doing now? Would I even be here?

You can never know. But it does scare me to think that my entire life might have swung on the balance of a few silly decisions made by a 16-year-old. If I’d known then…

Well. Anyway. Out here in the future, in the wilds of Twenty-First-Century me, I’m feeling a bit rough, and so I’ve not gone to the Oxford office, university town or not. I’ve stayed at home.