smells of freshly-baked bread, and here i am, still writing

the hour is late. my eyelids are starting to droop, but here i am, still writing.

the smell of freshly-baked bread still lingers in the air from earlier this evening. it is a sweet, sweet smell that evokes feelings of comfort and home.

michael buble’s soothing voice sings on, quietly, softly in the background.

i can hear the clock tick-ticking behind me, each tick reminding me that it is late, and that early alarm clock isn’t waiting for anybody tomorrow morning.

i rest my chin on my hand with my elbow on the desk before me. my eyes close for a minute, taking in the relief of relaxation.

but here i am, still writing.


this post was inspired by the daily prompt from the wordpress daily post!