The smell of freshly made coffee on a Sunday morning.
Sand falling through fingertips and breeze blowing through hair.
Rolling back over and falling back to sleep.
Goosebumps that cascade along spines when a new favourite song is played.
The feeling of being the only one awake in the world.
Setting down a pen after the last exam.
Waking up to shafts of sunlight pouring through the blinds.
The freshness of newly washed clothes.
Having a child scream your name and run towards you, arms outstretched with a huge grin.
Seeing the sun rise or counting the stars in the sky.
Watching someone smile and blush when you compliment them.
The sound of a piano in a huge and empty hall.
When coloured glass makes bright mosaics of light along the wall.
The musty smell of old bookshops and libraries.
Stumbling across a scrap-book full of memories and stories, vaguely familiar and almost forgotten.
The dull thud of rain against the window.
Babies wrapping tiny fragile hands around a finger.