‘I’m home. Love you!’ It was a routine for her to always text her mum even if she knew she had already seen the silly pictures she sent her from the train station.
Hannah was sitting at her window with her left leg hanging out over the porch’s roof. This was one of her favourite thinking places and ever since spring arrived to the Cloudy Albion she often sat here reading, listening to music, or just watching the curly clouds passing through the sky. She was dizzy and nauseous, she wasn't used to getting up this early so the chilly breeze stroking her cheeks and her bare feet actually felt refreshing. Her suitcase was lying open on the floor, she already put the ‘taste of home’ supplies in the fridge and cupboard down in the kitchen, but left everything else in it.
‘Well that’s definitely staying there for at least another 3 days.’
She could never get herself to unpack right after she got back from a longer visit. She felt like she could preserve that sweet essence of home, her parents’ embraces, those sounds and smells by choosing to trip over the suitcase every time she left her room for the next couple of days. This always seemed like a transition period but funnily enough it was actually leaving home to go back home. Because you see, Hannah had this superpower: she could take home with her in very minor things.
The Anderson kids burst out at their front door on the other side of the street extremely loudly discussing a scene from a film they probably watched yesterday about an alien lifeform with a weird telepathic sense. Mr. Anderson also appeared in the doorway, balancing incredibly skilfully five lunch boxes and three P.E. bags while still managing to hold the smallest girl’s hand who was still half asleep. Even though their conversations were limited to ‘Hello! How are you? How’s university? How’s work? The weather is horrendous/incredible today!’ Hannah loved this family and watching them perform their everyday routines made her days a bit more stable as well.
‘Elliot dear could you continue the story while you’re getting into the car? - Hello there Hannah!’ She smiled and waved at Mr. Anderson as he finally managed to close the trunk of the car. She only just realised how much she missed seeing this in the past two weeks she spent back at her parents’.
The Marlowe street was rather quiet, the Andersons always left late (honestly you can’t really help it with five kids).
The birds were chirping in the most joyful way possible. Back in February Hannah realised that the birds sing in a different way here. Their tweeting always sounded like the kind she only heard during the hot summer mornings back at her grandparents’ summerhouse, and they got up so much earlier which even through the thick windows woke Hannah up every day. She didn’t mind, it was a sweet disturbance of her sleep.
March was unusually warm, you could feel the light and tender crispiness of the fresh air, which when you breathe in and it fills your lungs, it instantly puts the widest smile on your face. Because of the massive changes in the weather she did not really experience this for at least six years now, spring only lasted a couple of days between the frosty winter and the scorching summer back in her city. She really liked it though, and ever since she moved here, she felt like the nature she lives in knows how much her soul misses these moments and provided her with all of them. Maybe this was a reason why she could get so emotional, her senses always confirmed to her: you are safe, you know this, you are home.
Home.
What is home? This was one of the most recurring questions of her life lately. For the past way too many years she just wanted to get away from there, far away. She didn’t feel like it was home anymore, she didn’t feel like she could be herself, she just wanted to flee. She did in the end, she left and moved to a foreign land she wanted to call home.
A dog started barking in the street, it was a profoundly familiar barking to Hannah. She leaned out a bit more from her window to see the little black mop-like fur ball, Poppy. She often met her and her owner Debbie on her walks out on the fields.
Hannah always lived in the capital city yet spent a lot of time on the countryside with her family. Moving to this little town was a rather new experience for her but she loved the fact that it only took her 5 minutes to get out into the green. The fields near the town really reminded her of the area where her uncle’s wine cellar was, a truly amazing part of her homeland. The sound of the wind rustling through the growing wheat and lucerne, the smell of the haystacks, the cold touch of the wet mud was no different from what she used to play in as a child.
She could tell by the moment the postman turned into their street, she heard this whistling so many times already, she knew it was Ollie. The guy was always cheerful no matter if it was 7 a.m. or 6 p.m. His long, rhythmic steps across the short Marlowe Street made it look like he was waltzing from one house to the other. He shoved a package through their postboxand Hannah suddenly remembered she had ordered a book for one of her projects which was supposed to arrive on that day: that was probably it.
She piled up so many books since she moved here. Her parents’ place has many tall shelves crammed with books, it has always been a soothing site to look at for her. Maybe she was trying to do the same with her room. One thing is for sure: if you know you are going to move in a short time you don’t pile up books, you just don’t want that pain of having to ship them from country to country. Well, she knew she wasn’t gonna do that in the near future.
The couple living at the further end of the terraced houses near Loxley street took their breakfast outside to their small balcony. The girls did this for the past month every morning, Hannah was impressed and maybe a little bit jealous of all the baked and fried goods their plates were packed with. They took their time to drink their teas, one of them leaning on the other’s shoulder, holding hands: their shared moment before jumping into the busy day.
Hannah’s favourite meal had always been breakfast. She loved getting creative with this meal and didn’t mind getting up even two hours earlier than she would have had to if that meant she will have the perfect breakfast. Porridge was her ultimate favourite though, she loved trying new pairings of toppings and the big mug of black tea always seemed like the perfect fit for it. But on days like this, when she had fresh homemade sausage, bread they baked last evening with her parents, that very light green pepper you cannot find in the UK and curd cheese rods covered in dark chocolate; she just sat down and consumed the flavours with all her senses. If she closed her eyes she could see the kitchen of her great aunt’s country house, feel the touch of the weird beeswax tablecloth, hear the flies buzzing around constantly hitting the window, taste the spicy sausage they used to make.
Suddenly, the entrance next door opened, Rob was carrying fresh laundry.
‘Good morning darling! Back so soon?’ he asked as he opened up the drying rack.
‘Hey Rob! Yeah, I took the early plane. The only problem is that I always forget how early it really is.’
‘Well you know how it is: early bird catches the worm. Or in your case the plane hahaha! So how was the time at your folks’?’
‘It was nice…surprisingly calm…yeah, I put my soul back in its place before I dive into my essays again.’ They both chuckled softly, sure for Hannah it was a bit more painful topic to laugh about.
‘Well well my dear girl, you gotta get back on that track. You’re home, those essays won’t write themselves!’ He waved as he went back to the house.
‘Yeah…’ whispered Hannah to herself ‘I’m home…’
