Bubbles and Squeaks (in my tummy)

In the mornings the sun stretches it's skinny fingers in through the blinds and pokes at my eyelids until I'm up. This morning I beat the sunlight to it, and watched the seagulls surf the rooftops until it was time for me to get dressed.
I got to experience the fullness, the harvest-apple-roundness of walking home from lectures in a dress the same colour as autumn trees, the sun tangled in my hair, with a chocolate Santa and a bottle of Bucks Fizz in my bag and my arms full of flowers to decorate my house with. I love, love living here.
Lauren lay on my floor with me and we raided my bookshelves for treasures, and the whole time I was talking I was also thinking about how beautiful she is, how much I wanted to photograph her but didn't have the courage to ask; about how much I love her and Sian and Glenda the Broccoli and living in our little three-bedroom house. I never want to leave.
Lauren and I have inherited Sian's cold and so, all of us being far too poorly to cook, we clambered into Lauren's car and drove to McDonald's. We sang Disney loudly (read: badly) all the way there and back again, although my own singing was interrupted because I was constantly spooning ice cream into my mouth.