Stood face to face in front of the towering ruins of this deserted, bastard French-style, not-quite-English chateau, as the sun reached its  zenith and the shadows disappeared almost to naught, both became, for each other, for the briefest of moments, as they once upon a time had been.    
Then each took time to recognise the extent to which the other had now become adult.   Saw that the bright, sharp edges of their once-innocent selves, each so familiar to the other, had been scribbled over and redrawn.   Sketchy outlines, palimpsest, had made changes, some self-drawn, some attempts at re-design by others who had maybe not cared, not sufficiently appreciated, the original.  
But each had known the original of the other.
And each wondered, unbidden and with a sudden heartfelt, gut-ached plunge, how they would be now.   Would their respective now-selves recognise, understand, still fit together as they once so seamlessly had done?   Or had the festooned trail of separate experiences completely changed their shapes so that they had become strangers, awkward and mutually abrasive?



Monday location: In front of