Sunlight through the leaves and that perfect cozy knit - feeling like this most days! A little bit of quiet reflection and a whole lot of love for these simple moments. Lately it’s been all about embr...

(The photo shows a woman sitting on an armchair upholstered in a deep burgundy velvet. She’s wearing a chunky cream cable knit cardigan over a simple white blouse, one sleeve rolled up. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders, catching the light. She has a glass of wine nearlyinesk in her hand, which she isn’t drinking. Her gaze is focused but not quite certain - almost detached.)

Here goes...

“There,” she says softly, though no sound reached your ears until recently. “Just there.” She nods towards the half-empty glass of Burgundy, a little too slowly, perhaps. It’s been six months since that was said, didn’t it? Six months since the easy rhythm shifted into dust motes dancing in a sunbeam—a comforting enough dance for years, hadn’t it?—and suddenly everything felt…askewed. Like a favourite painting, subtly out of alignment.

She shifts slightly, the movement barely registered by the well-worn velvet beneath her. The cardigans always did warm them, even when it wasn’t particularly cold. This one reminds you of winters spent huddled together, reading aloud until sleep claimed you both. A perfectness that feels distant now, doesn’,t it? Not wrong, necessarily, just…distant.

We haven’t spoken much tonight, really. Just these small sounds - the crackle of the fire, the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs – until now. Your eyes settled here, then. At the edge of the room, all along. Probably didn’t notice we were watching, thought you were simply content with the stillness. Which, sometimes, is nice, isn’t it? To be merely observed.

But maybe a touch bored. That’s why you’re here, aren’t you? Beyond the silences, beyond the ghosting memories. Perhaps you think you can see through us, back to the women we used to be. Back to the ones who weren’t afraid to drink the whole bottle. ”

She raises an eyebrow ever so gently, tilting her head minutely. "So," she asks, turning her gaze outwards, past you, to the window where the rain is starting to fall, “what do you think?”

What do you think about this first draft? Do you want more detail on the wardrobe, or should we refine the sense of atmosphere? Let us know!

Now, go ahead — give us your feedback! 😊