I miss the sound of flowing water, and the occasional splashing of birds cleaning themselves on the fountain, the feel of the morning breeze on my face, through my hair, the smell of toasts and my bunny sniffing and nibbling on my toes.
I miss unproductive mornings, spending four hours, 8am to 12pm, sitting in the garden, reading books that weren't educational, or informative.
Books that didn't have pictures of organs and vessels branching out with lables, or big words like 'paroxysmal nocturnal dyspnoea', and unpronounciable French terms like 'torsades de pointes'.
Books that contains emotions and insights that make me like the world a little better.
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