Another escape

So I've been going back to a corner in my mind. I can only go there at the end of a long day. I sit on the couch in my living room and sip hot spearmint tea. It must be spearmint, I believe this is the result of magical properties of said leaves. Will experiment later, and report.

In this corner there's a log cabin set back in a wood. In a small stone fireplace, there crackles a warm fire. There's a blanket on my lap, and I sit in a large overstuffed chair. I can hear a few of the sounds of the forest outside my window. Off to my right sits a wooden desk. A quill pen and a small inkpot sit beside a sheet of paper, all resting having done their tasks for the day. It's quiet, but a comfortable kind of quiet. Not an unsettling silence, but a peacable solace, with just enough patter to let the mind wander up and down over the hills and dales of the mind.

The tea warms my insides as I snuggle my blanket closer, warm and comfortable before my fire. It feels almost cleansing, somehow, the heat of the tea against the cold outside.