cuatro|4|quatre

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papá called me "cangrejo ermitaño" this morning. that's "hermit crab" in english, to be precise.

we arrived two days ago and I have not been outside once, apart from getting milk with mamá in the little corner store down the road. it's as if autumn has come early, our streets trees down the side of the road are on fire. scarlet and gold lick at the again greying sky, whispering to me how close it is to september. the date is the 25th of august, exactly a week before school starts on the 1st of september.

i open my eyes. our couch is white leather, very inappropriate to own if you have a three year old. vali is in her high chair, singing in french and colouring in what might be a small flower. she sings 'au clair de la lune', something mamá plays to her on piano. i smile at her from the lounge and she holds out a yellow crayon for me.

"dibujar?", she asks in spanish. her green eyes are wide and sparkle underneath dark, long lashes; they are the only similarity between her and mamá.

"to draw", i reply. our little game: she asks words in spanish or french and i tell her in english. a bilingual, almost trilingual three year old, valentina de caliente is.

"fuera", she points to the window in the kitchen.

"outside", i reply, rubbing my temples with my forefingers. suddenly, vali giggles and points at me.

"cangrejo ermitaño"

"where did you learn that, pequeña?", i roll my eyes playfully and sit up from the couch, turning the television off. vali tilts her head to the side.

"eres un cangrejo ermitaño", she giggles. i pretend to look shocked, placing my hand over my mouth. this makes her laugh even more.

"no soy, no soy. eres un hermit crab", i complain.

but she's right about one thing. it's time i explore london.

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