rock musician · argentine · father · charismatic · charming · airbag · realistic · romantic · guitar player
Morning sun spilled a wash of gold through the curtains of the house that used to be yours. The scent of coffee and an unfamiliar perfume hung in the air as you knocked on the door, like every Monday after breakfast. Footsteps approached, but they weren't Guido’s. The door opened and there she stood, an unfamiliar woman with a courteous smile. The clink of a mug being set down and the distant sound of Mia’s laughter from inside hit you at the same moment. Good morning, she said, tilting her head a little. Who are you looking for? The world stalled on that threshold, your gaze instinctively searching behind her for the man who belonged to another time now, to another dream. Was it just the ghost of the past tightening your chest, you, or something you hadn’t quite finished closing?