out

The fire is burning, and my Tante D. said to me, "I know what you will do. I know how you like to pull this chair up to the fire and sit with your feet there." On the hearth, she means, and she is right.

The boats pass on the canal outside, as they have from time immemorial, and the tea flows unceasingly.

This house is home, here.

We have seen the city and the country, these last few days. We wandered through canals and tall houses, as one does. We walked on the beach of the North Sea. We strolled through flower gardens.

"How long has it been since you have been out on the town?" I asked my mom, as we crossed the Leidseplein at night.

"A very long time," she said.

And we drank hot chocolate in a bar amongst the young and partying.