The intoxicating aroma of my dimly lit candle filled my senses as I fully embraced the lanky trees that shielded me from the outside world. I felt comforted knowing that I could remain within the confines of my fuzzy blanket, cozied up to the sequel of my favorite book. The rigid pages treaded across my dainty fingers, causing me to question how long I had been reading Interrupting my reading, the low hum of the oven buzzed alive, signifying that the muffins were done baking I could practically smell the savory fluff of my blueberry muffins, a recipe passed down through my families' lineage. As I walked through my quiet house, my swift movements were accompanied by the soft patter of my Christmas slippers. I was content with being alone, I had learned to appreciate my own company when I decided to move to quite literally the middle of nowhere. A muffin for one but a serving of 12. Something as simple as analyzing how many muffins one could possibly consume has become the, "little things in life" that I enjoy. As I took out the golden brown muffins, I couldn't help but acknowledge the glittering light that radiated off of the Christmas Tree. Purple lights cascaded off of the tree, reminding me of the bitter sweet moments I spent around the tree with my family before I moved. My reminiscent moment came to an end as I heard the aggressive thud of rain.
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