Monday, 21 February 2011

reverie

dedicated to the lovely Kim

i woke up this morning to a world painted grey; small sprites had trudged through the night with black and white chalk, smudging the sky with damp fingertips and dusting the grass with ash. not for the first time this year, i wished for summer. i dragged myself out of bed and opened the curtains, allowing the pale light to wash across the bedroom, making me feel like i had been immersed in cold water. 
all morning i moped; i moped in the kitchen when i discovered i didn't have any hot chocolate, (one of the few good thing about winter) i moped in the bath because i didn't have any bubble bath and i moped in the bedroom when i realised i'd ran out of perfume. in a fit of determination i rummaged through boxes and bags and it was whilst i was in the midst of the perfume hunt that i stumbled across the wash bag i had taken with me around europe last summer. i'd emptied it out apart from a travel hairbrush, some hair grips and a small silver tin from Lush. i pulled the tin out and took the top off and that is when it happened. it was like somebody had ripped me out of the flat, out of my winter hibernation and plunged me back into last summer; the heat burning softly against my skin as it shimmered over the world, melting the roads and buildings as i danced though foreign streets in flip-flops. i rubbed the sweet jasmine moisturiser over my arms and the reverie was so strong even when i walked through the sleepy streets of Cinderford i could see Amsterdam before me, smell the flower market and see the glitter in the canals...then Florence with those beautiful rings...Berlin and cocktails. with each breath i was transported to a different city, every city me and two friends visited last summer presented itself before me, complete with the people we had seen and the conversations we had spoken. all those memories that had been kept safe within me were playing themselves once again, and like discovering a film that you once loved but lost, i watched with nostalgic happiness.



Venice.
city of magic and masks. 

1 comment:

Kim Parslow said...

This has brought a tear to my eye! Oh millie, you write so beautifully. When you have a book finished I am sending it off to every publisher in the country!! You will get published one of these days.
My thoughts have gone back to Europe frequently lately. I miss Florence and that bar, I miss Venice and everything about it, and I miss Nice and it's glorious beach.
I wish we could do it all over again this summer! For longer. We were so silly to get nostalgic about home, and to fret about money. If I could do it all over again right now I would!

Love you Mil.xxxxx