Papa David

It will be hard leaving here tomorrow, as it always is.  David will be there at the door and we'll wave from the car, promise that we'll meet up again soon and then talk banalities between ourselves as we pass beneath the wind farms and through the hedged fields. 
Once we've joined the motorway heading west we know that he will have closed the door and shuffled back down the wide tiled corridor and will be assuming the silence that he doesn't want.