A quilted blanket is hung up to dry in the cramped confines of my flat, near a scented candle so it will smell of vanilla.
Songs from my past are playing on my phone while I cut tomatoes and goat's cheese. I'm making pie and find the heat of the oven comforting, like a hearth fire. I seldom make real food but as summer darkens toward autumn I will light this hearthfire more often.
This autumn I will be doing pilates and foam rolling, stretching my body and getting to know it. There will be piano music again. And when body and soul are tired, I will lie down under a vanilla-scented quilt and rest.
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