Tales of a festive season— happy end of the year from us
✨
I always loved both parts of it —
the ceremony and the collapse.
The polished shoes, the rituals we pretend are ancient,
the candles lit as if we remember why.
I dress for it properly, of course.
Even if no one sees me leave.
Festive customs are fascinating —
they give structure to excess.
They tell us when to toast, when to kiss,
when to pretend we are complete.
I respect that.
I respect good timing.
But it’s the after that really interests me.
The quiet choreography once everyone has gone home.
Lipstick left on the rim of a glass.
Music still humming in the walls, unsure if it’s allowed to stop.
That’s when things become honest.
Tonight it’s just me —
alone in this condo that knows my habits too well.
Silk on the sofa, heels abandoned like evidence.
I pour one last drink because it feels correct, not because I need it.
There’s a difference.
I adore both:
the formal invitation and the unofficial continuation.
The rules and the breaking of them.
The toast and the unbuttoning.
#hunterhornof
