Happy Place

I’m in a small, square room. It is many things, but foremost, it is quiet. No one is here but me. And I’m not speaking. I breathe slowly and deeply and with purpose. I sit on the warm, sturdy floor at the center of this room. It is a wood floor. Oak. Nearly flawless in grain. Smooth. Level. I am grounded on this floor. The room has a window. Big enough to welcome the sunlight, it faces the world with shimmering clarity. Open ever so slightly, it lets in a delicate breeze and nothing else. I face this window and grin faintly. Opposite the window is a door. It is closed and locked, but the key rests in the keyhole. The walls of this room are white. They know me, but do not talk. I don’t mind. I close my eyes every so often but through closed lids, I still see this room. I live here. This is my domain. I live here.