See me.
The cobbled streets glisten, dewy with the ever-present nostalgia of last nights rain. My hands are tucked into the snug pockets of my coat, which hangs oversized above my hoodie. It's September now and the cold days are turning into colder nights; speckled raindrops hang, like moments frozen in time from sticky cobwebs on your window cill. I knock, once, twice, thrice. Always three times, and rush to put my hand, knuckles a fresh pink from the hard wooden door, back into its nest of warmth. You open the door with a click-clack of the lock and as ever, a huge smile on your face. "Marie" you beam, you always sound surprised to see me, even when you've known for days I'm coming over. "Mum" I smile, and I'm wrapped in your embrace, your arms squeezing around my shoulders, my hands still in the pockets, unwilling to risk the cold.