it does feel like, doesn’t it?
The soft yet grainy coarse texture of my towel, musty fragrance of the wilting roses, the old Barbie bridal doll and the wet smell of the freshly watered garden invades the soft senses of my nostrils and percolates into every pore of my body.
It does feel like home, doesn't it?
And the answer is skilfully seguing into my ears and the fountain of melody resonates in my whole being.
Hostel is home away from home but home is where the heart drops all pretences to don the garb of the real ME. Hi mom. I am surrounded with LOVE.
For : WRITE TRIBE
Word Count : 100
Thank you WRITE TRIBE for taking me down memory lane with the grammar lessons.