I’m often surprised when I enter the chamber. Like Lucy’s wardrobe and Alice’s looking glass, the doors are hidden and there are many. Once I entered from the lyric in a song, another, from the sight of a faded rose, and yet another from prose in a diary. In an instant I was there, where bits of time are without order and always past. Some days I run, not wanting to be taken by the chamber’s spell, but today I lingered, enjoying the warm memory it brought to my soul.

P.S. Thanks for your good wishes while I was sick. I'm feeling much better now.