John Nitram

The character card that seeded the piece: John Nitram — enjoys grain products; bad eyesight; short at an old age; prioritises objects; does not overspend; wears blue, floral dresses and hates red; female, in a relationship; exceptionally rich; retired; soft-spoken; prefers light colours over bold.

My home sat — still visible — as we left the hillside. Then it faded out of view, and I took out my spectacles.

"You'll arrive back to it in a snap!" the chauffeur chuckled.

My husband held my warm palms, pulling me away from the car's window as our driver closed it. Fog rose, blurring away the castle for good.

"But it will ruin our dinner," I made sure to whisper, my lips close to his delicate ear. He stared back into my eyes, always seeing past the fog inside them.

"It will be alright." He pointed to the last turn for me. "We are here now."

My heels pressed down on the car's step. Turning back, the window was so large in front of me. To our chauffeur, I placed a bill in his hand.

The diner had colours bright and bird-like. I held my head in my husband's coat. The lights turned my dress white, to green, to red. He took my wrist and came in front of me, as I glanced down at my heels: baby blue.

The doors made that beeping sound. The staff greeted us.

"Any water?"

"No, no. My wife…" His stare met my lips. "We would like the menu first."

Seated, the waiter came and asked for our orders. They came back with baskets of bread.