“Hey look at this one”

She pulled out another photo, slightly brown round the edges. I nodded, in agreement.

“That was our first caravan; it was a good caravan that, we lost it in the hurricane”

I stared blankly at the photo; it looked like any other caravan to me. Except this caravan was from way back, maybe 1980.

“It looks like that caravan we had when I was younger” I replied, humbly; remembering what it used to be like.

“It’s the same park, I think we were practically on the same field, we couldn’t have been more than 200 metres away, we used to go up there with Nan, before she got ill”

I grew tired of old caravan talk, it was dated and monotonous; I didn’t care for it.

“Do you remember in our caravan, that day we were drunk” I questioned.

She’d already moved on, family party.