Solomon wishes more days were just like this one. Normal, uneventful, routine, maybe even a bit boring. He feels like he’s had enough excitement to last two lifetimes.
He craves moments like that – silence, warmth, safety.
It is not what he's ever wanted – his first and foremost desire is the truth and he has always been willing to sacrifice all of the above for the sake of finding the answers. But this – this is
The book he keeps in his hands barely holds his interest. He lets his mind fall silent as his head tilts up and rests against the couch. He soaks up the sun flitting through the blinds.
It flickers when the gentle wind tousles the trees in front of the windows. He feels so comfortable sitting on the big leather sofa.
Solomon blinks a few times, wishing had an eidetic memory to remember this image and these feelings, so that he could come back to it later and experience it with the same intensity he does now.
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