Being reminded by an isolated dream has really put me off. The fact that I could no longer run around on the paths does not necessarily means I do not feel attached to it. The only memento is a picture of a teenage girl with mismatch shoe laces. I blame the job jumping mother who would not settle for one. No, I blame the frantic bosses who would not stop pulling her into their lives.
I thought we could go back for Christmas to see our family friends, and mine, who I will not succeed in recognizing them, boo. And perhaps rekindle the broken string caused by an unfortunate wedding.
Instead, the place where my parents spent most of their teenage years is where we could spend our Christmas. Stupid trams and dangerous roads. Terrible eh?
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