Envelope of Memories

Every time I sit in front of this window to eat my breakfast, I think of when my English grandparents used to take my brother Chris and I up the South Downs and Beachy Head for Sunday walks and long talks, whilst picking raspberries along the way.

My grandmother would then cook noodles for Chris and me and serve them with chopsticks that she had bought in Hong Kong.

They’d always have a story to tell and photos to show from their younger years, placing their precious memories into my own of my childhood.

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