The sun streams in threw the bent blinds, restoring warmth all around.
The rays running over my eyes, as if to keep me awake while in this melancholy trans, looping around and around.
The dimly lit candle, overcoming the musky air with cinnamon sugar splendor.
The smooth, cherry wooden desk, filled with carved secrets begins to whisper.
The weary, thin-cushioned chair huffs in exasperation from the sitting plop.
The bound, fragile novels scatter across the desk, spilling over and landing on the cream -colored, shag rug.
The loose-leaf pages filled with publishing potential, clutter up within the crooked drawers of the desk, itching their way to make a reappearance.
The sweet lyrics mixed with the soft beats of quiet music hypnotize me into a soothing sway.
The sun winding down, each shade of it separating into blissful tabs of time.
Today is one of those days to just close your eyes and let life lead the way.