Sunday evening.
I walk into the pub and see L and A sat at a table looking at menus. We hug and I sit, choosing a steak and ale pie and allow them to begin. They tell me the stories of their month long trip around Europe. 22 cities.
They tell me about the bouncers they met in Venice who gave them free drinks all night and offered to drive them around the city which they refused.
They tell me about the bar they went to under a church in Vienna that was only lit by candlelight.
They tell me about the hostel owners in Prague who greeted them with a hug every time they saw them.
And they tell me and tell me.
And I'm seething with jealousy.
Then they give me my present, 3 large pouches of tobacco, and I tell them it sounds wonderful.

We eat our meals and I hear more, and I tell them how nothing has happened while they've been away. We go outside for a cigarette and L snaps a polaroid of us that comes out with our faces whitewashed. She draws a sad face on the bottom and leaves it under the ash tray.