My mother brushes the carpet and offers me a choice of duvet covers. Four squares of light relax on the burgundy sofa. Trains rattle past the bathroom window and I remember the day I painted the frame. Today I play ball in the garden as mum hangs out my end-of-term washing. The fence and sunflowers form a cocoon. Goal kicks with my nephew in the smell of cut grass until we are called to the constant of dinner – cheese melt and French bread. I talk about university to my father and I know that when I leave it will be the last time.
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