#mussoorie

I’ve been feeling like living in the mountains lately. All alone somewhere in the lanes of Mussoorie surrounded by those long trees I don’t know the name of. Living in a small house made of wood with a small fireplace in it and flooded with books and a lot more books. I think how good would that be. Living and breathing literature in the lanes of Mussoorie. Writing stories and forgetting about them and leaving them for the world to read. How would it feel like to escape this constant chaotic life in the city and run away. Oh, I can already smell the cold breeze flowing through my window. Oh what a life it would be.