"What is the opposite of two? A lonely me, a lonely you..."

The Little Things

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realise they were the big things..."

Sometimes, it’s the little things that remind me of London. Of home. Of you. Silly things. Things you might not expect. It really is all in the details.

Chocolates…posh ones, from a Belgian chocolate shop. That’s an easy one. I buy myself a box each birthday, and pretend they’ve appeared on my desk like other mysterious presents used to.

White bread. White bread with a generous sweep of golden butter. It makes me think of the pout on your face the first day you were presented with a wholemeal, low-fat sandwich. You’d better be keeping that up, by the way.

The colour red, in all shades. Bright, for the London buses. For phone-boxes (lack of graffiti permitting), and pillar boxes and Beefeaters. Rusty gold, for the leaves below the roof of the Grid – was it always autumn when we stood up there, or only in my memory? Deep, passionate red. The red of your office and the red in my dreams. And finally, burgundy…but most of all when it’s white.

Yesterday, it was a man calling angrily after his cat as it shot out of his front door. I imagined you taking on my mischief makers, and poor Scarlett having to share you with them, too. How are the little tinkers? Missing me?

Today, it was a bus journey. I put my hand up to the back of the seat, and let it rest there. I do that a lot. Maybe one day I’ll find you behind me again, touching your fingers to mine.

"Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language." - Henry James

[Bristol harbour. July 08]

There is nothing better than spending a lazy afternoon beside the river, soaking up the sun with a much loved book, a bench, a cup of that fancy foam Starbucks are passing off as coffee these days and a good pair of sunglasses for people watching. No matter where in the world I am, it feels like home.