3Memories By the time the heavy snowflake on the bus window had melted, I had ‘seen’ every Christmas I’ve had back Home, every scruffy end of the fake tree branches and every single decoration we’ve been using for years and years. I could feel the thick carpet under my feet and the smells from the kitchen if i'd try hard enough. The sound of the bell brought me back, reminding me of all the preparations for tomorrow. Friends would come over to celebrate. We would have a lovely dinner. We would exchange presents. And drink wine. And have Merry Christmas. At my own home.
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