← All confessions · Fantasy 2026-10-12

Off Duty

A decade-long daydream about the stone-faced guard finally cracking a smile. Last month, he did.

How it started

Every tourist knows the guards outside the palace: tall hats, red coats, eyes fixed on the middle distance, not a flicker of emotion while people pull faces and pose for selfies. Since my first visit at twenty-two, I've had one silly, harmless fantasy. I'd walk past, catch his eye, and he'd break, just a tiny smile, just for me. I've been back to London six times and it never happened. My friends think it's hilarious. I bring it up every time we're planning a trip. It's become my personal Everest. Every visit I'd walk past slowly, try my best smile, and get absolutely nothing back. Not a blink.

Then it happened

Last month I was there on a grey Tuesday, no crowds, just me and an umbrella. I walked past, glanced up, and the guard's mouth twitched into the smallest smile I've ever seen. I squeaked out loud. I have since been back nine times in four weeks, purely for architectural reasons. My friends have banned the topic at dinner. I bought a postcard of him. Probably.

The morning after

Her group chat has nicknamed him 'The Smile'. She refuses to admit how many photos she took. Last week she swears he smiled again, slightly wider. Her friends are planning an intervention, and a girls' trip to London.