The Room of Solace
Unfortunately, or not, but when I think about the meaningful place
for me, nothing comes out. Except one room in the place I used to
live. All my childhood was there. My every birthday was spent there,
and not in a dining room. When my friends came they also preferred my
room than the dining one.
As much as I remember myself, there always were only two colors:
a peach color for wallpaper and a wooden color for the rest. The desk,
wardrobe, door, even floor, everything has wooden color. But to be
more honest and specific they actually were wooden made. Also there
was one really huge and wide window. How I can claim it? Well, right
under it there was a super long battery that literally was made from
three smaller ones. So the room always was in warm and had lots of
light, and only due to enormous window but also because it came on the
south-east.
The room was on the first floor, so anytime you look through the
window on the street it always gave a feeling of having a stroll, it
could seem like you are already went into the yard. If the window was
opened I could feel the smell of the grass and asphalt – a strange
aroma cocktail, but it was my favorite. I really liked to look at the
window, so as a result, I put my desk near to it. And when I had
difficult times, or just needed some time to think about, I leaned
back in my chair and put my eyes on the yard. And I still don't have
even a tiny clue why, but it was helping. When I just wanted some
space to be alone for a while, or to cry my tears out, or to do some
activity, I couldn't find a more comfortable place. And I never will.
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