When Anouk Closed Early

Maybe we don’t always need to chase the next thing. Maybe we just need to sit still long enough for the heart to catch up.

Sometimes, much to our surprise, the world doesn’t fall apart when we slow down. It actually softens. This week’s visit to Anouk’s Café is not about grand lessons or life-changing conversations, but about something simpler: the beauty of closing early, lighting a candle, and remembering that rest, too, is part of the rhythm of living.

The café had been unusually slow that afternoon. The soft humming of jazz filled the empty space as Anouk wiped the counter one last time. The bell above the door hadn’t rung in almost an hour. For once, she didn’t mind. She looked out through the large window. The street outside was bathed in the golden hush of a late autumn sun. Acting on a whim, she turned the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed.” A rare early finish for her standards.

At home, she lit a single white candle and filled the kettle. The sound of the boiling water felt oddly comforting, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. She took a long shower, let the warm water wash away the day, and slipped comfortably into her softest robe. Dinner was simple.A bowl of soup, a slice of bread, and the scent of her favourite green tea steeping beside her. As she reached for a book from the shelf, an old photograph fell to the floor.

It was one of those carefree days when time felt endless. A picnic under wide skies and a sun dazzling and radiant, joyful laughter, the company of dear friends, the smell of spring grass,the birds chirping and that unexpected shower of rain that sent everyone running and shrieking for cover.

Anouk smiled fondly at the memory, her heart blooming with warmth. Life had been simpler then, but perhaps not better. Just… slower. More unhurried. She realised she’d been longing not for the past itself, but for that stillness — the feeling of being completely in the moment.

Later that night, as she slipped into bed, she whispered softly to herself: “Maybe pausing is not a waste of time after all. Maybe it’s how we hear our true selves again.”

And with that, she fell asleep, her heart as light as the candle flame beside her.

Maybe we don’t always need to chase the next thing. Maybe we just need to sit still long enough for the heart to catch up.
When was the last time you allowed yourself to pause — really pause — without guilt?

Thank you for reading… ✨

If this soft little story brought you a moment of stillness, I’m glad.
I believe silence is a kind of grace, and that stories, too, can offer us rest.

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With ink and light and, maybe an essence of vanilla,

Lia