I wish I could say...

I wish I could say that I’m sitting at a bay window, overlooking a frozen lake and watching the falling snowflakes bathing the world in white. I wish I could say that I’m writing something insightful and beautiful and deeply touching, as I peck away at the keys of an antique typewriter. I wish I could say that the lights are dimmed, and the scent of patchouli candles is mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I wish I could say that I hear the strains of Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra in the background as I get lost in a love before my time. I wish I could say that I’m sitting here wrapped in a hand-crocheted afghan of deep blues and stark whites, feeling the warm softness of its comfort draped about my shoulders. I wish I could tell you these things, as I sit and feel inspired by a place and time that is not my own.