Outside my house is a burned-out car, which was quite surprising. It appeared overnight, and I found it while walking to the newsagent in the morning. Apparently my housemate got to see them putting it out on her way into work, which was exciting.
Surprising, because you don’t often see cars set alight in the middle of London, but the sight of a burned out car and that particular aroma of burned rubber, petrol and oil did bring back memories.
It reminded me of where I was brought up, and why I left.