SelfPub: Quiet in my house

Quiet in my house. Only tenderness itself is quieter ... Early morning sounds like a favorite melody and smells of scalding black coffee. Fragrant smells and tastes, shimmering in the dawn sunlight, cloud the quiet space. Bright morning floats everywhere, splashing light under bare feet. Hot coffee, bursting with thick steam, burns sleepy fingers, penetrating heat through the dense ceramic layer of the cup. You close your eyes and feel a smile appear on your lips, and in your soul - a fluttering warmth and lavender tenderness.