I stand over the sink and peel the skin off the fruit.
Despite the sweet flavour, and the juice that dribbles down my chin;
I can't help but feel a little glum.
I am forced to remember the last time I ate this delectable fruit -
oh so long ago on the shores of Byron Bay.
The sun was glinting down, the sand between my toes;
the crystal water just meters away and mine if I wanted it.
The young lady beside me was shaded by an umbrella and chatting about anything to keep our minds off the fact that I was leaving just days away.
We laughed about ridiculous topics and flicked fruit skin at each other.
She so flippantly said
'I don't really know if I like lychees' whilst continuing to devour the slimy fruit.
After encouraging her to go for a swim, my persuasion was quickly cut short by a visit from a jelly fish -
apparently it was out to get her, particularly on her newly formed scar!
After fresh seafood and loads of laughter, we climbed back into the car.
The drive back to Papa's, only short, but seemed to take forever.
Silence filled the car as we were lost for what to say.
How could something so easy, so taken for granted be swept away and gone for a while.
We were more then sisters, we were friends who enjoyed each others company.
So I stand here now, in my little London kitchen, and miss her incredibly.
The fruit a simple reminder of the good times we had,
the laughter and ease at which friendship brings.
Thank you lychee, for taking me back to this moment.
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