June 23, 2012

My dearest,

The alarm goes off. Saturday morning and it’s raining after a week of haze and heat. Perfect for sleeping in. That’s what weekends are for, after all. Our brunch date can wait. That’s why it’s called brunch and not breakfast, yes? And how better to sleep in than to curl up with someone whose body is warmer than yours, to link your arms around theirs, to have them murmur dreamily… until your ice-cold toes touches their feet and they leap out of bed yelling, that is.

Yours, ever and always.