Comfort

The smell of Lake Michigan.

The sound of waves on the beach.

The open-airiness of my mother's living room.

The clicking of a gas range.

My dad's blue couch.

Wood smoke.

Bash.

The flannel-lined sleeping bag that I used for bedding my freshman year of college.

Diesel purring on my chest.

The pressure of a cheek resting against my hair.

A Labrador leaning against my leg, and the silkiness of her ears.

Hugging my nieces and nephews.

Cold bedroom, warm blankets.

Waking up to an arm wrapping around me.

Coming into an apartment that just feels perfect....

...in a city that feels like home.