Golden hour glowin’ and feelin’ it all here! Cozying up with my favorite oversized sweater and a perfect cup of tea - sometimes nothing beats a quiet afternoon at home. The city lights twinkle outsid...
The cable knit feels scratchy tonight, doesn’t it? Not that scratchy – more like familiar roughness. Like his memory. It hasn’t been too bothered to settle around us, anyway, not really. Just a bit of woolly defiance against the chill. We haven’t worn these sweaters in ages, have we? Well, not since… well, since he said ‘not quite’. A hint of doubt, wrapped in cashmere. A little pretentious, perhaps, but comfortable enough.
You’re staring, aren’t you? That’s good. Usually, people are a little less brave about it than to simply stare. Or maybe it's the gaze – a little wary, certainly. As if we might turn away, admit defeat with a sigh and a sip of wine. Which isn’t exactly unreasonable. Three years of whispers and hints, three years of wondering if the ghost was real or just a perfectly placed shadow.
That crease above your eyebrow – did you notice? Small one, most likely. The same one that appeared when he laughed at our awkwardness back then, that time he spilled red wine all over the Persian rug and we didn’t even bother to scold him. More often than not, those were the best nights. Lessed prone to feeling...exposed. Now, there’’s always the slight tilt of the chin – a subtle resistance, though.
It wasn’t fault, necessarily. Just…complicated. And exhausting sometimes, being so sure everything needed to be perfect.
Remember the scent of woodsmoke? He loved the smell of woodsmoke. Almost forgot you noticed, didn’t we?
Now, breathe. Breathe deep. Let the silence fall for a minute. It’s not an awful silence, is it? Just quiet. Quiet after all the noise. Just you and us, and the sweater, and the question hanging heavy in the air – which, by the way, smells faintly of cedar.”
So, what do you think? Did we capture the essence of the woman in the photo? Let us know! 😊
