new home #2, #3

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."

J.R.R Tolkien, The Hobbit 

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Peach ranunculas in a blue jar on the window sill. An orange bowl full of purple grapes. An old brown chair, a stack of crimson books. A yellow apron on its peg. Only the green typewriter is missing in this violet hour.