Perfect Moments

Someone asked me the other night what my perfect day or perfect moment would look like. There are any number of possible answers, really, but I'd take the first that came to mind. So I closed my eyes and let my imagination take over.
I can hear wind outside, even the occasional bit of thunder, which I've always thought of as God showing off. But it's warm where I am - a fire burning in the hearth and a mug of hot chocolate warm me from the inside out. I'm sitting in an overstuffed armchair with my legs curled up underneath me, and a smile on my face. Someone just made a bad joke, and I shake my head as the rest of the room groans. Still, we're all laughing - telling stories, coming up with outrageous ideas and dreams for the future. And amidst the teasing and jokes, there's an unmistakable undercurrent of love.
I leave for a minute to go get some snacks - and get filled in on the things I missed in that brief moment. There's a scramble for the baking I'd been working on earlier - something about those cookies. And just to be completely unrealistic for a moment - it's my fantasy after all - let's say the cookies have no calories at all.
The house smells like vanilla; deep reds and creamy yellows seem to absorb and enrich the warmth from the fireplace. I can just hear the music underneath the voices and laughter - a simple, acoustic guitar, smooth vocals.
It's a perfect moment, filled with warmth and music, laughter and love. And it's mine.