I left the building feeling oddly protective of it. It’s like that friend who shows up to a party in a wrinkled shirt but ends up being the most interesting person there. Moretown Building 2 Thomas More Street isn’t Instagrammable. It’s experience-able. You have to live in it, breathe its dusty air, and accept that the lift might trap you for a minute.
And if you do? You’ll find a quiet, stubborn beauty. The kind that doesn’t demand attention but deserves it. So next time you walk past, don’t take a selfie with the pigeon. Just smile at the building. It’s trying its best, and honestly? That’s more than enough.
P.S. — I never did find out what happens in Studio 17. If you know, please email me. I’m dying to know if it’s a pottery class or a secret board meeting about garden gnomes. Don’t leave me hanging.
