Lost in West London

I’m lost in West London with my brother.

Colours and shapes fly past us in a plethora of patterns as we walk down Kilburn High Street.

He takes my hand – it’s an odd feeling. In many ways it is the first time.

Everything mellows out as he speaks, dark raindrops splatter on the pavement, he opens a black umbrella as we walk on.

I see our reflection in shopwindow after shopwindow – 27 years and it’s finally here. We’re in the same place – same time.

He flashes a cheeky smile and I can’t help but feel like I’ve arrived to a place of rest. A bubble of quiet freedom.

We head for Brondesbury, looking for TexMex places to try.

It’s the first time I got to be a younger sibling – I’ve never felt so safe.

JBV