[Renoir notices that tightening grip, the demand for perfection and control, to prove yourself capable when others continue to lecture you. He thinks about one of his daughters for a moment; his hand dusting nothing off his sleeve while his eyes soften in the corners.
His children hardly value their lives. It should break his heart to see it repeated here, yet...]
I suppose I don't get to come in now and interfere.
[He muses. Sometimes it's better to walk away. Sometimes it's not easy.]
no subject
His children hardly value their lives. It should break his heart to see it repeated here, yet...]
I suppose I don't get to come in now and interfere.
[He muses. Sometimes it's better to walk away. Sometimes it's not easy.]
At least let me ask if you are alright.