MORNINGS.
In a way, those first mornings were special. The Way you woke up to the alarm. Unfazed, excited, non-grumpy.
The struggle to find the specs. Unfamiliar surfaces. Untouched corners. Cardboard boxes strewn about. Life, messy and comfortable.
The first splash of water in the basin. The first aroma of tea gurgling and boiling. The first newspaper. The first gush of wind through the windows thrown open.
The cacophony of neighbors, the echoes of past. The buzz of the television next door. The tinkling of nostalgia in musty nooks.
The knob that wouldn't turn. The lock that took ages to click. The switch that refuses to budge. The bell that chimes way longer than necessary.
The first guest. The last occupant.
In a way, those first mornings were special.
- Akshay
In a way, those first mornings were special. The Way you woke up to the alarm. Unfazed, excited, non-grumpy.
The struggle to find the specs. Unfamiliar surfaces. Untouched corners. Cardboard boxes strewn about. Life, messy and comfortable.
The first splash of water in the basin. The first aroma of tea gurgling and boiling. The first newspaper. The first gush of wind through the windows thrown open.
The cacophony of neighbors, the echoes of past. The buzz of the television next door. The tinkling of nostalgia in musty nooks.
The knob that wouldn't turn. The lock that took ages to click. The switch that refuses to budge. The bell that chimes way longer than necessary.
The first guest. The last occupant.
In a way, those first mornings were special.
- Akshay
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