Coffee beans, a hint of lime, freshly bathed babies, the ocean at sunrise, D&G on Dad, Mommie's moth-proof cupboards, my favourite perfume on moi, Nana's freshly baked coconut cake, hot loaves of bread on cold school mornings, burying my nose into favourite old books, wet earth after the first rain, banana flavoured gum, the lingering of his after-shave 15 years later.

Xmas and New Year's eve parties in the 90s, chilly winter nights, long skirts and longer bike rides, a big red telephone and long hours waiting for it to ring, Eagles on the radio and Free Willy in my hands, cosy coffee shops and cheesy lines from Ghost, faded yellow pages filled with black ink, me sitting at my favourite place in the whole world and wondering if he really was the one, walking in the fields on moonlit nights and gazing at his silhouette, saving that blade of grass, writing the last line of a poem, etching my name into the window frame, opening the door for Dad.