Sunlight through the leaves, coffee steaming – that’s how we do it here in Tuscany. Feeling like this all weekend long - comfortable, cozy and completely ourselves. Little details make all the differe...

Here goes...

The wool feels scratchy tonight, doesn't it? Not terribly so, not really - it’s been familiar for fifteen years, this feeling of gentle abrasion against the skin. Like remembering something should be easier than it sometimes is. And you’re standing there, aren’t we? A little too close to the edge of the armchair, perhaps, a little hesitant about whether to reach out. It’s been a while since anyone was quite that certain, hasn't it?

We were laughing yesterday, weren’t we? Just a quiet laugh, after all these years – not one of those big bursts everyone remembers, butdsubtle, like steam rising off hot tea. Remembered by us, anyway. The way he used to tilt his head when we laughed, perfectly unaware he probably should have been.

Now look at you. Aren't you staring? Probably. That slightly wary gaze, ever since the last time you dared to suggest things weren’t entirely perfect. Which wasn't that long ago, really. He left, didn’t he? Our boy, with a suitcase full of excuses and a smile that never quite reached his eyes. And we stayed, clinging onto the remnants.

This dress, well, it’s old. Silk, once. Now moreish linen, a touch frayed around the edges, much like ourselves. Comfortable though. Familiar. We don't need grand gestures, do we? Just a glance, maybe. Or perhaps, even better, a question.

So go ahead, then. Take a closer look. Isn't it funny how easily we let ourselves be seen? Almost forgot how. Though, did you notice the dust motes dancing in the light today?"

Let us know:

• What do you think of the monologue?
• Which details stand out most vividly?
• Do you agree with her assessment of everything? :)

Would love to hear your thoughts! Now, show us the picture! 😊