What do I want?

We would be woken up in the morning by the first rays of sunlight caressing our fresh, sleep-nourished skin. I'd tip the remains of the glass of water I took to bed into the jar of wildflowers we picked in the garden, before traipsing into the kitchen to make pancakes.

We'd eat outside, because it was such a crisp and happy day, and take fruit juices, tea and coffee to the table, as well as the food. We'd sit there in our pyjamas and talk about how we slept and what we dreamt about with dewy grass tickling the bottom of our feet. We'd even have a load of colourful, natural ice cream for breakfast, how icy cold it is wakes us right up. From where we are sat, we can see the overgrown mess of the greenhouse we said we were growing vegetables in, including our own pumpkins for Halloween.

It is such a nice day that we decide to make a picnic and go on a walk through the woods. We make and pack loads of sandwiches, drinks, breads and pastas, as well as lots of cake. I drop a tub of coleslaw on the floor because I'm an idiot. We leave the house and set off, the sun is still rising, and filtering through the branches above us, silhouetting onto our faces. We find a clearing in the trees and choose a comfortable place to sit, with no dog shit or bees. We eat everything in the wrong order and I need a rennie, which I have obviously packed.

We spend all afternoon in the forest, laughing and exchanging stories and thoughts, and drifting in and out of sleep. When we are home, the sun is starting to fall from the sky, and it is dropping cool, so we put on our jumpers and eat soup and salad outside. We light some candles to warm our hands over, and watch stupid tele on the crappy tv we found at the side of a road.

We move inside as the sun dips below the horizon, turning the sky orange and the temperature chilly. We run a bath to sit in, and we listen the bubbles fizzing and watch the steam rising into the air around us, the candles we lit smell like pine and cinnamon. We start to go prune-like so we drain the bath and go and sit in the living room. It is twilight outside, so we turn the fairy lights on and pour some wine to drink even though neither of us like it, it just feels right. We watch our favourite movies and nibble at leftover picnic, until we start to doze off.

We wake up as the credits are running on the film and stumble to our bed. The sheets and quilts are soft and clean and feel great against our legs and feet, and the cushions prop our heads at just the right height. We talk tired shite until we can't manage to utter another word. We sleep deeply and with interruption, until the first rays of morning sunlight caress our faces once again.