Letters to Autumn 8
Letters to Autumn

Letters to Autumn 8

Dear Autumn,

I am currently living my best breakfast bar dreams.

There is a fantasy that I have, and it is one that somehow manages to creep into some of the things that I write, where the house/apartment/whatever just inexplicably has a breakfast bar in the kitchen. And my protagonist just spends all her time there. There is a mug of coffee just reaching the perfect temperature. The sunlight is streaming through a window (all the time, nice and realistic). It’s just super romantic and artistic and they stun someone with their natural beauty as the sun hits them and they spend all their time on a bar stool and it’s all so whimsical.

It was also just this fantasy because I had never actually physically been around one.

Until now.

First of all sitting on a bar stool for ages isn’t the worst thing in the world, but it’s kind of awful for your back after a while. The height of this particular breakfast bar is perfect for doing things like writing and typing. And because of the height I can do things like cross my legs comfortably which is always handy got me. From this particular one I have a great view of the sea and also the TV. Also I can curl my legs up in a whole host of ways which is also grand.

This all means that the little fantasy that I seriously insist on putting into fucking everything at least doesn’t seem all that crazy to me now. In fact, it might have been fuelled a bit more.

I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s still a little crazy and on some level it is impractical (I really don’t think it the set up would work in all layouts that I create, but I put it there anyway). But having said that, they are also almost always in the kitchen and that kind of easy access to food cannot be scoffed at, so they probably won’t go anywhere.

So yeah, for the next few days I am living my best breakfast bar fantasy life.

Love,Main sign off

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