I might have a new friend. Same face. Same place. Just a couple of months later.
And yes, just as I did before, I’m writing this from a bed*.
I had forgotten how purposeless words can hold a special meaning. Just like driving endlessly on the smallest roads, with no possibility whatsoever to get lost since we have no destination.
And it feels like a moment outside of time.
More than ever, this year, june feels like a new start. A kiss goodbye under the rain. Metaphorically and literally.
Also the first time I won’t be able to wish my grand-father his birthday.
[On April snow and breakfast in bed - A five-minute brioche]
When I mentioned the five-minute brioche, I forgot to say it’s more of a five-minute and five-day brioche.
Five days where the blossoms turned into snow.
Last night, I might not have been there when the flap clock on my wall roared and clicked – just like the train-station departures board of my grand-mother’s village – but I could feel that April was around the corner.
I don’t really know where to start about my – our – recent getaway to Cornwall. I have seen landscapes so beautiful my eyes hurt. I have eaten food so delicious my taste-buds remember.
A mandarine soup that tastes better than bitting into the real fruit. The crunch of dark chocolate.
I always seem to think I don’t like citrus and chocolate. But I do.
It’s been raining a lot these days.
And the night has been falling late in the morning; leaving very few hours for the light to turn from golden to blue.