It’s happened again hasn’t it?
You’ve taken a walk into town and something has triggered a memory. Something small, something you can’t quite place. It’s reminded you of that summer evening when your dad stood with an umbrella over the BBQ, determined that the coals would catch flame despite the rain. That’s the memory that’s taken your feet in the direction of the shops for BBQ food. That’s the memory that makes you smirk to yourself as the cars and strangers pass you in the street. It’s a small memory, but when you’re having a bad day, it’s the small things that keep you smiling.