photo by Dmitri Popov via Unsplash
A terrace of pink and lilac houses – candlyfloss and Parma Violets – clings to the hillside just as it did years ago, paint paler with age, a little streaked, a little stained.
Below lies the seafront, the same shops selling buckets and spades, sticks of rock and postcards, the photographs decades out of date.
This was our old stomping ground, the amusement arcades, the cafes serving ice cream floats and skinny chips in cones, us sucking the cardboard until soggy, the grease all gone. The only thing that’s changed is us.
This picture reminded me of the painted houses that you’ll often see at the English seaside, and even in my own dear Bristol …