__link__ - Abbywinters Dee V

The late afternoon light slanted through the tall windows of the old seaside cottage, painting long, soft rectangles across the worn wooden floor. Dust motes danced in the beams, lazy and slow. Outside, the North Sea was a sheet of hammered pewter, calm after a morning of restless wind.

The idea came to her without words. A desire to document this. Not for anyone else. For her. A map of this moment. abbywinters dee v

Dee sat cross-legged in the middle of the largest sun-patch, her back straight, eyes closed. She was listening to the silence. Not an empty silence, but a full one—the hum of the old house settling, the distant cry of a gull, the whisper of her own breath. The late afternoon light slanted through the tall