It was cold, but the moment I stepped out of the car I smelled the warmth of the bread. It was the glow in the air.
If home were a feeling, it’d be that place between outside and in, when the heat hits your cheeks and you start to thaw in your belly. You’re acutely aware of every muscle in your face. As it moves again, you lick your lips. Your eyes feast.
The funny thing about that feeling is that you don’t have to be home to have it. Warm apples with cream and a coffee with steam. It’s unfamiliar, yet exactly the same. Happiness knows no borders.