waking up to the bright shining sun. an easy classic playing softly outside in the living area. a gentle breeze wafts in, tickling the many windchimes along the balcony. he's sitting there reading his newspaper. she's still asleep. peacefulness.
crawling along the dining room wall into the living room, catching a glimpse of the sun rising on the east through the front door. a strong memory of the childhood i had in JB. wonder if it actually happened.
it gets a little muffy sometimes. when the clothes pile up, when the door has been shut for too long a time. fallen to neglect. yet it is still a well-loved place. the comfort of home? or is it really the comfort of familiarity.
sentimentality. reminiscence. surrealism. fantasy. how the brain works. it is a mystery. but i've got to snap out of it.