the slow morning after... breakfast with three other adults felt unexpectedly tender we stayed over at a couples place in the cotswolds last weekend after a really beautiful evening. woke up sunday in their guest room, came downstairs to find the wife already making proper coffee and the husband poaching eggs and my husband helping butter toast like nothing was unusual. four people in dressing gowns eating sourdough at 10am chatting about gardens and box sets... i dunno why but it felt more intimate than the night before. is this a thing other people experience? the morning after as its own quiet magic...