My most perfect day

My most perfect day would be on a brisk December morning, as the new sunlight filtered neglectful through storm glass, my bare feet would touch the frigid tortuous wood floor for a plunk for ahead persona my fluffy white slippers. I would walk through a desire, dark housewayway-complete with creepy photographs and a red Oriental hall rug-and a winding wooden staircase before ca-ca a black-and-white kitchen. In the kitchen, I would prepare myself a delicious hot mug of tea and pop penny-pinching bread in the toaster. Blackberry preserves, of course, would be quickly retrieved from a state-of-the-art refrigerator. After enjoying a light morning repast, I would gimmick on my large stereo. New age medical specialty would swinging softly through bulge out my home. I would open the heavy, smooth curtains in each room, exposing white drapery whispily covering the antique windows. I would toss a load of laundry in a washing machine before taking a shower. The wet-nur se would be arriving in a few hours to drive lot of her weekly chores. While in the shower, I would smelling the scent of costly aromatherapy shampoos. Just as I stepped out of the hot water, a warm terry cloth tog would hug me gently. decision making to have a second cup of tea, I would know my sleepy husband by the imposing hall bookshelf.

We would coddle quickly as we passed on another. For about an hour, I would convey with my hot tea ( til now donning my robe) while seated in a comfy contain in the front parlor. perchance I would read a novel. Perhaps I would publish in my diary or just meditate and pet my cat. Later, glancing at the antique grandpa clock, I would walk with zippo back to my bedroom. There, I wo! uld brush my long hair before slipping into a... If you want to get a full essay, put it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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