The first last kiss [antikvár]

6.11 a.m. 5 January 2012There's no sweeter way to be woken than with a kiss. Sadly this morning the last I'll spend in this house - I'm woken not by the soft graze of a lovers lips against mine, but by the prickly claws of the fat, purring cat lying on my chest.'Morning Harry,' I murmur, tickling him under his chin and pon-dering that this morning, there is no man with a six-pack between my sheets, just the two-pack of Jammie Dodgers I munched my way through last night. 'It's the big day today, fella,' I say. Harry looks startled and licks his paws frantically. He has been anxious with all the comings and goings of the last few days.'Aww, don't be silly, I'm not going anywhere without you and your sister.' I kiss him on the nose and lift him off the mattress and swing my legs onto the floor full of boxes. Once again, I can't help but think how quickly a life can be packed up. It makes everything feel so transitory. All this stuff we place so much importance on to make us feel at home, surrounding ourselves with comforting memory-triggers when really, most stuff is disposable. Actually, having a clear-out has been surprisingly cathartic.I take a deep breath and try to work out what I should do first. It's too cold to have a shower as the heating hasn't come on yet. And besides, I'm gagging for a cuppa. I've some final bits of pack-ing to do before the removal van arrivés. Part of me is resentful that I'm doing this alone but I also know that today has to go like clock-work which, as any woman knows, means doing it myself. I balk a little and then smile as I realize just how much I sound like my mother. My teenage self would be horrified.Outside, everything is shrouded in a sea of subterranean black. I shiver and throw my dressing gown on over my T-shirt and leggings, slip into my Ugg boots, blanching at the sight in the