Bells chime in the background
As the first snow falls in a fever dream
As I adjust my sweatshirt
To cover my hands
I look up into the sky
And see it conquered with dark grey clouds
Yet there is a sense of warmth.
A lingering aroma of gold scented candles
And candied apple pies.
It's like a spell
Which is dancing on the fingertips of every little child who believes in enchantments and fantasies
And on the nose of every 20ish, somewhat broke kid who still loves hot chocolate.
It smells of cinnamon and mom's recipes.
It feels like happiness.
Winter feels like home.
Author: Himadri K Editor: Ishwari T