Good feelings

At times, I reminisce about those ineffable mixtures of happiness and languor. I want to feel like water colours dripping down a page, free, light and best of all, dissolved in warm memories. A bright yellow, the colour of the Post-its lining my father’s desk, or the plum of my favourite shirt. Perhaps the meringue orange of my mother’s warm sweater that I used to sneak for myself. Maybe the green hues of the potted plants breathing in my old home and the grass I rolled around in. I imagine slowly seeping into the page…

Now, that’s a good feeling.

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