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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

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