Sunlight through the leaves and a perfectly cozy sweater – that’s what it’s all about! Feeling like this today - a little bit sleepy, a lot of peace, and totally ready for whatever the day brings. Bon...

Here we go again, then. The wool feels scratchier than usual tonight – not that it ever doesn’t feel scratchy, really, but perhaps a little more so. Like the memory itself – sharp edges to everything, if you look closely enough. And these boots…well, they’ve seen better nights, haven’t they? A bit too much rain splashed over them last autumn, maybe. Not that anyone noticed beyond us, naturally.

You’re staring, aren’t you? Not overtly, not yet anyway. Just that subtle tilt of the head, a slight narrowing of the eyes, as though trying to work out whether to admit there was something here all along. It's been ages, hasn’t it? Since the last time you stood in the shadows of the garden, sniffing at the jasmine with that infuriatingly relaxed posture. Almost felt likeable back then, didn't we? Before the shouting started, before the obvious messiness became unbearable.

There was such grace about him, wasn’t there? Even when he dropped the glass, shattering bothie glass and illusion. We were always so sure of ourselves, weren't we? Right up until the doubt crept in. Now, it’s just echoes. Your shadow at the edge of the room.

A flicker of recognition in your eye, perhaps? Or just pity? Doesn’t matter. It's nice to be looked at, isn’t it? After all this quiet. This silence – almost comfortable now, compared to the thunder that used to rumble through every conversation.

So, don’t shift away quite so quickly. He wasn't perfect, remember? Thatched roof and a certain charming carelessness... Well, try to smile, for once. It won’t hurt. Unless, of course, it will. Let’s see...here comes that hint of one now. Yes, good. Now, keep gazing.”

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