The scent of fresh brewed coffee.
The sound of a light drizzle tapping on the window.
The feel of the worn pages of a book I’ve read many times.
This is when the cozy spirit comes to haunt.
Like a large, quilted blanket that your grandmother would own.
A bit scratchy.
But I still wrap it around me.
I welcome the spirit to sit with me as I read.
Just two old friends catching up.
On a rainy afternoon.
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