23 January 2011
My Favorite Place
Although many places provide us with mental stability and a sense of comfort, we all have a favorite place. For some, it may be a favorite restaurant, the smell of trees at a park, the tranquility of a church, or the tingly sensation of the sand at the beach. My ideal place would have to be my bedroom. It is where I spend most of my time. I just simply love the atmosphere that is sometimes interrupted by the insistent barking of my eight-pound doorbell Maltese or my mother screaming, “the food is ready!” There is nothing better than running away to the comfort of my thirteen square feet fortress where I can always smell a fresh citrus aroma that reminds me of a freshly peeled orange. Twisting the silver circular doorknob that is adjoined in my door is like opening a bottle of water after running a marathon. All the walls are painted vividly with my favorite colors: orange with blue, and green retro polka dots. When the sun shines through the vaulted windows, the room beams up making it appear even brighter. This usually makes me so hungry, I feel; I could devour a cow. Although my mother always critiques the grotesque colors of my room, the always cold as an iceberg-wooded floor blends in perfectly with the bright colors of the walls. On the same wall of the door, two shelves that are actual skim boards seem to float parallel one under the other. Opposite to them, a corkboard with a collage of pictures represents memories with loved ones such as family and friends. Unless there is music playing, the sound of my room is so peaceful one can hear birds sing. My queen size, platform bed is placed right in the center of the room. She always takes advantage of the silence by inviting me to snooze. However, I sometimes ignore her by turning the television on, which is in the opposite wall from the bed. Since it is suspended on a wall mount, it seems to float on top...