A half-open window. Morning-fresh air carriescurious sunlight into a bedroom. Flecks of dust shimmer yellow-gold. Four feet, entwined under white sheets. Joni's Blue, on the player. Delicate curtains slow-danceto Sunday's tune. Laughter. Talk of: what for breakfast? Anything. Anything at all.

Nick Miller
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More Quotes By Nick Miller
  1. An awfulness was deep inside me, and I couldn't fight it; forced into submission and taken hostage by it, I could only just lie there, let it wash over me, and let myself be consumed by it. If I cooperate, maybe it won't stay too...

  2. Travel is wishing for one more bite of whatever that just was.

  3. A half-open window. Morning-fresh air carriescurious sunlight into a bedroom. Flecks of dust shimmer yellow-gold. Four feet, entwined under white sheets. Joni's Blue, on the player. Delicate curtains slow-danceto Sunday's tune. Laughter. Talk of: what for breakfast? Anything. Anything at all.

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