there is....

there is a red teacup with tea stains around the lip, on the cup a red-breasted robin sings, surrounded by a ring of gold,

there is a small floral suitcase, filled with trinkets, closed away and filed under "sundries",

there is the smell of wild roses, a victorian scent that catches my nostrils and provides comfort,

there is a white plastic frame, a man and woman, both wearing glasses, sit with a candle-topped cake and smile with the occasion,

there is a child's drawing adorning a cushion case, the child smiles and the date reads 2007,

there are more frames, in them sits a little girl with white-blonde hair, she is riding a pony, she is sitting with her sister, she is running into the wind along the sea wall in her Paddington Bear blue duffel coat and red wellies, she is dancing by the christmas tree

there is a sense of loss for this little girl and her carefree world in which playdough and dens in the garden are paramount,

there is a small smile for the objects in this no-mans-land which remind her of a place she belongs,

there is a feeling of worry and uncertainty for a certainly uncertain future,

there are pangs of regret for a life she no longer lives.