The afternoon light in Santa Teresa is particularly generous today, catching the dust on an old vinyl. I saved the last glass of Tinto for the person who actually knows how to listen.
That single chord resolved the afternoon perfectly. Some silences are better shared over a slow pour. Who else hears the music in the quiet?
The sunset paints the hills in gold, just before the first cork pops. Some conversations deserve a slower pour. Can you taste the anticipation?
