A Dewy Field in My Room
On imagination and the places a song can take you
Written and illustrated by me.
The gentle sound of a guitar fills me with a sensation of warmth. It started in the middle of my chest and spread outwards, taking me to a spring morning. I walked through a field shining with dew, and as the sun rose on the horizon, I woke up trees, flowers, and all kinds of little friends after a chilly night to bask in the sun again.
