a nostalgic longing for the sweet scent of grass under our feet.
there is nothing like birdsong in the morning, the cool breeze coming through the dense, bulky curtains drawn at a quarter. it's only 8:27 am but it feels like i've lived a day and more.
hearing back garden gates swing open from a distance as people rise to walk their dogs.
my hamster, so exposed and vulnerable in the frosty, invigorating lighting of first thing. bruxing softly and knitting himself a bed with shredded tissue.
it feels like i'm coming down with something.
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