The morning twilight, carrying the unique scent of the forest, quietly climbed onto Teresa's cheek through the gaps in the wooden window.
"Hmm..."
Teresa slowly opened her eyes, staring at the familiar ceiling, momentarily entranced.
She had another dream.
In the dream, she returned to that warm place again, once more tasting the full potato feast her mother prepared.
However, compared to the last extremely vivid dream, this one quickly became blurry upon waking, and the memory soon turned into a mere fantasy.
Like water cupped in her hands, no matter how tightly her ten fingers pressed together, it eventually trickled through the gaps, leaving only a damp chill in her palms as a reminder that it once existed.
The specifics of what her mother said, the exact flavors of the dishes, and even the clear outline of "home" quietly vanished the moment the sunlight fully illuminated the room.
"Sigh..."
