A cool breeze sweeps through my room, carrying the scent of a winter night as if it were passing by a day with someone sitting on a hill.
The room quickly turns into a meadow, matching that atmosphere ย The room lighting turns into the moon, and the surrounding furniture turns into nothing more than old antiques. The blanket instantly turns into the grass of a meadow, and the song coming from my phone turns into the sound of a festival heard from the village below the hill. ย
In this atmosphere, I feel the cold and feel that I'm alive; freed from the crowded city, the scent of a winter night in the countryside is a smell of temptation that no one can dare shake off.
I invite this scent into my room again today by opening the window โ cold, freezing away complicated thoughts, and in a way, warmly wrapping around me.
