I called my parents an hour ago, they were eating breakfast in the sunshine at the golf course in Omaha. I was sitting in my living room in London, shivering because I am too scared to go and adjust the thermostat without supervision. Five minutes later, these arrive in my inbox, super cute double snapshots. Cue tearing up (look at those short wearing rebels!)
Email, Skype, cheap calls, gchat and le Facebook are communication miracles when you’re living on the other side of the planet. That said, it’s not the same. I miss the big and small successes of my friends, the nights out drinking feijoa cider solving the problems of the universe, and the freckles of my sister in high summer. 18 sleeps until I am, in the words of Shihad, home again.