Lace And Laughter: Chores And Charm
On a sun-lazy Sunday, turned cleaning into a slow, teasing ritual of dominance and devotion.
The old box fan insisted upon a lazy, rhythmic breath, a low, pervasive counterpoint to the television’s distant murmur. A bold, careless spill of morning sun sliced through the window blinds, laying down uneven stripes of gold across the worn couch where you were blissfully anchored in the warmth of her presence. Limbs intertwined, you were a perfect, quiet knot of sated stillness and absolute contentment. Your Sunday cl...
