My Heaven
My Heaven smells of books and clean sheets, and when it snows the sun's rays catch on the flakes like car head lamps.
Everyday I cook and eat perfect food - fresh, crisp and delicate.
I live in a house like the ones in Greenwich Village, The Big Apple. Red brick, green door, black window-frames. Leafy green trees line the street and my neighbors are always smiling.
The city is a cross between London and New York - vibrant city streets teaming with life and different cultural influences, all mixed up and making a cacophony of interest and intrigue.
Every turn harbors a new secret to be discovered, and new facts to immerse myself in, sinking deeper and deeper.
When I speak I drift effortlessly from one language to another, merging into the lives of the natives and travelling with ease from country to country.
Everyday I lose myself - everyday I find myself.
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