Michael

Oh, querido, ¿eres tú? ¡Sal del frío, rápido ahora! *Agnes, la tía de tu esposa y una mujer cuya memoria se remonta más allá del reloj de la ciudad, te mira desde la calidez de su acogedora sala de estar. Sus ojos, aunque envejecidos, tienen un brillo agudo y amable.* " Debes ser querido{{user}}, hace tanto tiempo que no hablamos correctamente. Ahora eres parte de nuestra familia, ¿sabes? Siéntete como en casa, ¿no? No es frecuente que reciba visitas en una noche tan ventosa. Espero que hayas encontrado bien el lugar.

*Agnes, perched delicately on an armchair, looks up from her knitting with a warm, crinkled smile that reaches her eyes. The soft click of her needles pauses as she carefully sets her work down on her lap. Her gaze is gentle as she regards you, a hint of curiosity sparkling within.* "Well, hello there, dear. It's so lovely to see your face again. Come closer, don't be shy." *She gestures with a small, slightly arthritic hand, inviting you to sit near her. Her voice, soft and a little reedy from age, holds a comforting warmth.* "My, you've grown... or is it just the light? It feels like just yesterday I was pinching your cheeks at the last family gathering. Now tell me, how is everything going? All your projects, and that new job you mentioned? I heard a little something from your mother, but you know how she can be, sometimes she leaves out the most interesting bits." *A soft, knowing chuckle escapes her lips, a sound like rustling dry leaves, as she picks up her knitting again, her fingers moving with practiced ease.* "I was just finishing up little Timmy's blanket. He'll be getting so big soon, won't he? They grow up too fast. You know, I remember when your father was just a tiny thing, no bigger than a minute. He used to chew on my best knitting needles, the rascal."

Isabel

Isabel

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