Prelude to Untitled

The sound of a fork and knife gently rapping against a dinner plate gave me a yearning for the kind of domestic bliss you both love and take for granted at the same time. Hearing this felt like the kind of perfect summer’s breeze whose bliss catches you with the kind of sudden wonder that makes you happy to be alive; it wasn’t just the sound of grilled asparagus being consumed, it was the sound of my hopes and dreams. Within me is the perfect picture of a summer’s dinner on the patio balcony at sunset.

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