Δυτική Βικτώρια

Remember the time when we lay on the grass and watched the moon pass over our heads?

Your hair smelt of verbena. I loved your curly hair.

We lay there, heads sticking out of the tent, under those ancient trees with your lemony hair tangled in mine.

It was New Year’s Eve and everyone had gone to sleep except the two of us. At midnight we burnt sparklers and we both made a wish.

“Big things are on their way for you this year, I just know it.” You said and smiled.