The luxury of evening

Monday night. The day fades slowly, and the light settles in amber reflections on the linen. I shed my clothes. The ones

for the outside world, for the rush of the day. And I slip into my linen robe, tattoed with grasses, adorned with tiny vintage glass beads. Just enough to make this moment feel precious, without excess.

A washcloth, a hand towel, a bath towel. Simple gestures, repeated every day, yet transformed. The softness of washed linen against my skin, water gliding slowly, a new awareness. Taking care of oneself is also this: slowing down, feeling the fabric, letting it wrap around you.

The house still murmurs, then quiets. In the dim light, I allow myself this ritual. A gentle way to close the day.