‘Surprise!’
A dozen of my friends were present in the ground-floor kitchen of the squat. With red and black and gold, a metre-wide roll of paper that was hung across the far wall stated: ‘WELCOME HOME CYN’. A comforting scent from a stack of glazed Cinnamon buns, fresh out of the oven, surrounded me and caressed me as gently as the eyes of my friends.
Pat…
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