A young couple they were, 12 years ago, when they entered the house next to us.
They seemed to be nice.
Two young people, trying to find their way in the university, the city and in life.

During the years we've talked quite a lot, not often, but very intense.
When they were busy pursuing their careers, the mailman brought me their packages and when they were home the girls carried the mail to them and received a sweet.
It gave me the feeling they took over a bit of what the girls should have had with a grandma.

Years passed by.
One baby arrived, and another.
Wee heard the newborn noises, and the sweet caring guidance in the garden, telling the oldest girl not to make too much noise.
It was like I had a peek into my own past, when I told my children the same in the same way.

And then the news came: 'we'll be moving north...a job....'

Far too quick the day came we had to say our goodbyes.
So I stood there, between the boxes, watching the playstuff of the children piled in the garden.
Two hugs and another quick one at the door.

This morning three cars in the street...

I didn't look anymore
The cars are are gone.
I'm sure by now they have arrived in the north and the little girls are running around in a house full of boxes, or in the garden in the bright shining sun.

They're gone.

.