14/06/2026
In the evening, there will be only a single light left on. A room where they live when it is cold. Where the fire is fed like an all consuming lover. The tips of flames ashing its melting weight. The sounds like murmurs of warmth. And all the while, their clothes shall contain the sillage of the glow turned into smell, and lingering for days.
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Image: One of my favourite houses in the Mountains. I have no does who lives here but I have stalked in often over the years.