Tamzin

You feel familiar, an old friend. A loyal companion who could join me in telling many of our life adventures. One, who forgetting about being stuffed without thought into the top of a rucksack, would tell of the smells of markets with rancid meats and pungent spices. Of freezing nights in the wilderness and bumpy rides on stuffy buses.

Worn, bits missing, but nothing broken, I know you would understand when I say you’re not of outstanding importance to me, but I would be very sad to see you go. If I take a moment to think how you have been treated I’m embarrassed by my actions and yet those same thoughts bring memories of smiles. You are a faithful companion.

If you were a food you would taste smooth – a mixture of spices so well combined, each individual one could not be separated. And yet if one were missed, it would be wrong. A taste that simmers in the pan and reaches greater perfection with time.

I’m not sure that you actually have a smell, but if you did I imagine it would be similar to that of my soft, worn, woolly jumper. Familiar and gentle to my senses, spreading warmth and comfort through my body.

As far as your looks – you look well travelled my friend! Knowing us both, I know you see this as a compliment.