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He glances at the clock, then turns his head to me. I purse my lips and my eyes shift to look at him. But with no focus, a well behaved blur. I’m tunnel vision focused on our visit and highly alert. His potential cheekiness is lost in my smudged edges. A previous error of leaving his shoes on in the house was a close call (how would he not realise the importance?), but luckily was saved with swiftness.
We collapse out of our sunken seats and I feel like a tower above a quaint, pastel coloured cottage. My granny has shrunk further, i’m sure. We’ve popped in for a while now and it’s either Scrabble or it’s time to leave the house of a bazillion years. We need to go back to our South West city, probably stopping at Reading Services and definitely suffering from my Audi road rage on the way.
Goodbye Sussex, land of orange, pink and starry skies. Nostalgia will contain you, whilst the ever-changing city scape, desire to build and consistent parental changes to the family home, will lock you safely away. However, whilst new experiences threaten and beckon, the Downs and the sea remain mine. Protected by nature and laws, a forever changing constant.
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