My Quixotic Sanctuary: An Ode to 100 Words on My Beloved Abode
As with the majority, I too possess a sanctuary that I fondly deem sweet. Mine is an haven where rest mingles with mirth, a place where I carouse with friends or seek solace with my kin.
A vivid memory dances in my mind—a night when I returned much too late. My teacher's demand that I conclude my homework detained me. The elements grew unforgiving—chill winds, the bite of frost. In that moment, hunger and cold had me in their grip; the world seemed a harsher place. Yet, I raced home, and upon crossing its threshold, warmth and joy enveloped me like a cozy shroud.
It is for this that my affection for my sweet home knows no bounds. Is it not the same for you?