It’s one of the those times one you feel absolutely content.
I’m sitting in my room, the family’s out at the movies, the window is opened partially, with the mild afternoon sunlight streaming in. There’s a slight breeze, making the sheer curtain flutter.
With my laptop on my lap, I’m covered in my comforter from the waist down, and the ceiling fan is at the right speed, not to cold or windy.
It’s quiet, expect for the sound of the few cars on the road and the smooth whirring of the fan, and I’m listening to Adele’s One and Only, and now it’s changed to Abba’s Move On.
I occasionally indulge in reading fan fiction on a particular series. It’s kind of my guilty pleasure. And I’m currently rereading one of my favourite fics.
I love these kind of lazy times, which sadly I experience rarely. But that’s the beauty of them. Their elusiveness makes them all the more special, when they finally do immerse me in them.