Golden hour glowin’ and feeling it! Lately has been all about cozy knits and quiet mornings – simple pleasures that always hit the spot. The city was asleep as we strolled through the streets, just u...

The wool feels scratchy tonight, doesn’t it? Not a terrible scratch, not usually - more… familiar. Like an old habit we don't quite want to shake off, even if it does tug at the edges sometimes. That deep green has always been your color, hasn’t it? The one Dad picked out for Christmas ‘98 when we were ten, remember? Or was it eleven? It's hard to be sure these days.

We haven’t spoken much since the announcement, really. Justedled around a bit, hadn’t we? Like ships passing in the night, a brief glance, a nod too quick to catch. Your hair looks good, though. Still that unruly dark brown, needs a little tidying up maybe, but still here. Almost like he did. Almost.

See, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Everyone says "almost" like it wasn't so painful all those years ago. As if simply remembering without griefing is enough. We never actually said goodbye, not properly. More like everyone else drifted away while we were busy staring down at the dust motes dancing in the afternoon light.

And you’re standing there, aren’t we? Thatched roof behind you, golden hour spilling through the window, perfect lighting. A perfectly poised smile almost reached your eyes then, didn’t it? Before the stillness settled back in. Did you miss the way the sunlight caught in our hair? Maybe.

It’s comfortable, being observed, isn’t it? Less daunting than facing the quietness within ourselves. Though, perhaps, that's the point. Let them look. Let them see the flicker of something buried deep, beneath the layers of carefully cultivated composure.

Just try not to stare too closely. Too many memories lurking underneath, after all.”

What did you think? Do you want us to take another shot with a different feeling, or would you like to delve deeper into this one? ✨