Jasper got home from his morning walk. He much enjoyed France and the city streets. The spiraling buildings and water edges. He had is journal in hand. He typically paused to lean against railings to write, distracted and musing over the river below. Today, it had been pouring and he was utterly soaking, but the grin on his face told you he much enjoyed his walk.

“Morning, my dear. I absolutely love this time of year. Don’t you?”

He walked over, pressing his lips to your knuckles.