- at the end of the road -

the pitter-patter of little feet running down the stairs, small curls bouncing, her favorite orange dress fluttering around her.

the morning light filtering through white, embroidered curtains, mingling with the smell of apricot jam on toasted bread, the taste of salted butter. A crossword puzzle book lying open on the table, a pen resting across its pages, beside three bowls of warm milk and a cup of ricoré, steam gently rising.

carousel tickets, tucked away in a small basket on the top shelf, carrying the promise of another summer day. Colorful beach towels loosely folded, waiting by the front door to welcome sandy feet and salt-tangled hair.

——

- and the blue hydrangeas -

clinging to the banister, quietly making her way down the grand wooden staircase, her little feet gliding over the smooth, freshly waxed steps. Careful not to slip, not to disturb the silence of the morning, tugging at the pyjamas laid out for her the night before.

the smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering over freshly baked pastries, neatly arranged on hand-painted porcelain plates, polished silverware softly glinting on a delicately embroidered tablecloth, every detail woven with care.

the scent of lavender drifting through the half-open Dutch door, inviting her to leave the cool, smooth tiled floor behind for the sun-warmed paving stones of the terrace.

——

- ivy-covered -

opening the squeaking door, walking across the creaking floorboards, softly making her way down the broad wooden staircase, greeted by the gentle hum of the old radio in the kitchen.

a table set the day before, each preference remembered:

her favorite jam, homemade mirabelle,
her bread, lightly toasted
his morning coffee, always black,
his brioche, thickly sliced,
prepared just the way they liked it.

a third place set with homemade yogurt and carefully chosen honey. a white-and-red teapot and its tiny crack, holding as many memories as cups of tea.

the morning sun shining on the garden, reflected in her hazel eyes, the sound of a passing train, mingling with laughter and stories of dreams.

a day asking nothing of you,
but to stay a little longer.