Sophie pulls the last damp sheet from the wicker basket and hangs it over the clothesline, corners squared off, edges free. She smooths the soft cotton, making sure there are no wrinkles. She reaches into the mesh bag, removes two wooden clothespins, and fastens the sheet to the line just as the wind begins to stir. The warm breeze catches her by surprise, billowing the circle of freshly washed laundry into a rhapsody of motion. The fragrance of linen drying in the sun – reminds me of childhood, she thinks, as the sheets blow all around her. She’s surrounded by a swirl of pure white, backlit by the morning sun and the deep blue of the sky. She feels like a little girl again, playing hide and seek with her sister among the flapping clothes. She throws her head back and laughs, intoxicated by being outdoors in her own home on a weekday morning. “Sweet freedom!” she cries out loud.

Liam glances out the window at his wife. How lovely she is, outlined in golden light, surrounded by white and blue, standing barefoot in green. She looks ten years younger, he thinks. The buzzer goes off and he slips a silver-grey kitchen mitt over his right hand, opening the oven door with his left. He carefully pulls out a loaf of bread, sighing with satisfaction. Looks perfect. He’s been experimenting with new recipes. He’s proud of the special ingredients, eager to brag to Sophie about his super-healthy creation. Whole wheat flour, sunflower, poppy, sesame and flax seeds, oats and just a touch of honey. While the bread cools, he tests the dark green bumpy fruit waiting on the counter. His thumb leaves a slight indentation – the perfect ripeness!

“Avocado toast coming up,” he yells out the open window. Sophie breaks into a smile at the scent of freshly baked bread. She picks up the empty clothes basket, running barefoot through the lush grass toward her husband, who shouts, “Brunch at home every morning. We did it!” He hums to himself as he sets the table for two.