50
The scent of things gone
Thessaloniki, June 1983
Eleni and Electra were sitting under the sun trying to dry their summer uniforms, which were dripping wet from another extended session of water play. This time round they were not alone in it at least, as all their friends had joined in the water fight with giggles and screams. The group had quickly dispersed when they saw Mr Manos on the horizon. Their own uniforms, though, were glued to their torsos like a second skin, and water was dripping down their ankles, wetting their socks too.
‘Is the winner the one who’s the least or the most wet? If it is the first, we have definitely lost’, Eleni turned to ask Electra in an amused tone; but to her surprise, tears were running down Electra’s cheeks.
‘You are crying?’
‘It is the last day
