Sunlight through the leaves, coffee steam rising… that’s what it’s all about, right? Feeling cozy and content in my favorite oversized knit today – like we can do this whole autumn thing! A little bit...

The wool feels scratchy tonight, doesn’t it? Not particularly harsh – more… dutifully so. Like we always found the effort to be here, even when not quite sure why. These boots, for instance – sturdy, certainly, seen us through plenty of damp autumns. Though perhaps too many? Or maybe not enough. It hasn't felt like that much like ‘enough,’ has it? For a while, anyway.

You’re staring, aren’t you? A bit hesitant, really. That slight tilt of the head, like you’re not entirely certain you should be. We used to know each other better than these shadows, didn’t we? Remember the way the light caught his hair then, all golden dust motes and easy smiles... A lifetime ago, probably. Unless, of course, you were there.

There was a coffee cup last week, sitting almost empty by the armchair, still faintly scented with his cologne. Rosemary, wasn’t it? Your favourite. Didn’t touch it, did you? Too afraid of breaking something perfect already, perhaps. Always liked things neat, didn’t we? Even if the quietness had started feeling a little tooed silent recently.

That crease above your eyebrow—did he do that? Probably. He had a knack for doing that. Such a subtle shift, easily overlooked. This one’, though, this one feels important. Like you think we might actually admit it sometimes, don’t you dare? The hint of warmth beneath the carefully cultivated distance.

Well, maybe. Maybe you notice the slight curve of my lip, a trace of amusement amidst the melancholic acceptance. And maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t be nervous. After all, isn’t that what happens when we look back? When the dust settles and those familiar lines around your eyes appear. Now, don’t blink.”

Now, over to you! Let’s see your interpretation of our words. 😊

(Image is below!)

Illustration of a woman standing near a window, wearing an oversized knitted cardigan, brown trousers, and brown boots. She is drinking tea, her gaze drifts off into space, slightly pensive but relaxed, comfortable posture.

How does that sound? Do you want us to refine anything about the monlogue, or perhaps focus on a particular detail of the picture? Let us know!