Sometimes I need a hug, or I miss soft-spoken words amid the cries of seagulls. Sometimes there are not enough colours in a watergaw that I spot over the sea. Sometimes I want to shout, “Let’s all pretend we live forever and stop asking what the exchange rate is.” But most of the time, I simply sit on a bench on the promenade by the beach and watch the strollers passing me by, hoping one day someone notices me. I guess everyone should have their own little impossible to cherish.