The working families of my childhood, with their whitewashed fences and their painstakingly trimmed patches of lawn, had long since moved away. Nowada...s, only those too hopeless, too beaten, or too far gone into booze or drugs could be found in the remnants of what had been.Like myself.Yet, somehow, all that was reversed. My here-and-now was even nicer, cleaner and brighter that my happiest childhood memory.Lacking any particular plan, and with a curious lack of urgency, I stepped into the. ’ That almost-sad smile again–why is that there? ‘I’m so sorry, I should’ve spoken first…’ She steps close, puts the towel in my hands and her face near enough to mine that I can smell the cannibas and cloves on her skin. ‘It’s alright.’ Her eyes catch mine–hold them, let them go–and I walk further into the rabbit hole this tiny wee flat is becoming, towel clutched like a talisman. Lightning flashes. What in hell am I doing here? )O( ‘I’m noticing a theme,’ she says to me. It’s later, if the. More

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