- My teenage diaries.
- A battered copy (on loan) of Mrs Beeton.
- Those really good cooking tongs.
- A signed film poster of ‘The English Patient’.
- Your Duke of Edinburgh gold and my bronze.
- Our photograph album.
- My cashmere pashmina.
- My beanie babies collection.
- A set list from the Pixies ‘Doolittle’ tour.
- Our love letters from when you were working away.
- The vinyl has all gone.
- Tickets stubs from the final at Wembley.
- Your wedding suit.
- A box of phones with photos still on them.
- Our hiking kit.
- A flowerpress full of my childhood.
- Shoes that we never wore.
- Books. So many books.
- A Metrocard from our last NYC trip.
- A lock of her hair.
- A fridge freezer full of food from yesterday’s big shop.
- The 55″ big screen.
- My work laptop.
- The milk jug shaped like a cow.
- My Jo Malone that I was saving for best.
- The fancy shampoo.
- My slippers.
- Passports.
- Exam certificates.
- Birth certificates.
- Wedding certificate.
- Driving licence.
- The envelope of expense receipts.
- The warranties.
- The vintage handkerchiefs that I loved.
- Our really comfortable bed.
- My Mulberry handbag.
- Your IWC watch.
- My Tiffany ring.
- That old Welsh wool blanket.
- Our electric toothbrushes.
- The tickets for that concert next month. Can we still go?
- A vase full of small change.
- Those mid-century modern dining room chairs.
- The library books.
- That really useful travel bag.
- £400 cash for emergencies.
- The well-stocked cocktail trolley and antique glassware.
- The college notes.
- The chargers for the phone.
- That print by that artist from before he was famous.
- The spoon you always ate ice-cream with.
- The stained glass lamp from that auction.
- A box of photographs.
- The armchair that we just had re-covered.
- Your cacti that you were growing for 10 years.
- My capsule wardrobe.
- The mix-tapes.
- A patchwork quilt made by my aunt.
- My mother’s engagement ring.
- My father’s medals.
- Your favourite jeans imported from Japan.
- The little book of internet passwords.
- Those rare trainers that you queued up for hours to get.
- $5 Poker chips from the Las Vegas honeymoon.
- Those kitschy seaside ornaments.
- The best frying pan ever.
- The hand-made carved, wooden fruit bowl.
- The sofa we saved a year for.
- The shoe lasts of your grandad’s feet.
- The rug we brought home from Morocco.
- All our clothes except the ones we had on.
- My work-in-progress notebook.
- Your tools.
- That paint we had mixed for the hallway.
- The Christmas presents we bought in advance.
- The cat.
- Half a dozen steaks in the freezer.
- My desk.
- The framed review of your sister’s book.
- The softest, worn Irish linen sheets.
- Those two wine glasses from the 1920s.
- My make-up.
- The signed Neil Gaiman that we found in the airport bookshop.
- The vodka from our Iceland holiday that we were saving.
- The Polish glass turquoise vase from my childhood.
- The history of our old lives.
- Our obsession with collecting.
- Our sense of security.
- The ability to sleep.
- The reluctance to show emotion in public.
- My materialism.
- Your complacency.
- Our entitlement.
- Our privacy.
- Our future plans.
- Our attachments to ‘stuff’.
- Our fear.
- Our pride.
- Everything that wasn’t saved in the cloud.
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