A handwritten note from your host arrives by post. Inside: a map, a fig recipe, the name of the village baker, the cat's name.
Someone meets you at the door with bread, salt, and the keys. They stay only long enough to show you which window catches the morning.
You have nothing scheduled. Sundial sends one note a week: a market on Tuesday, a swim on Friday. You ignore them at will.
By the third week you will have made one friend, one habit, and one mistake worth remembering. We will ask you about all three.
"I came for a month and stayed through a season. The house knew before I did."