"It feels strange," Anna-Lena murmured, smoothing out a linen shirt that felt unnecessarily heavy in her hands. "Packing away the freedom."
"Old memories," Anna Lena said softly. She held up a faded Polaroid. It showed a much younger Timo, dreadlocks tied back, standing on a cliffside with nothing but a backpack and a wide grin.
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Timo smiled, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "We were naturists before we even knew there was a word for it. We just... were. It was about being raw. Shedding the costume."
Timo nodded, folding a pair of shorts with practiced efficiency. "It’s just layers, Lena. We’re still the same people underneath them."