SETTLING!
535 Words
Nathan was beginning to settle into this life.
It was a strange thought—comforting yet unsettling at the same time. Every morning, he woke up in the small, rustic cabin that now felt like home. The scent of pine and freshly brewed coffee greeted him before he even opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the soft glow of sunlight slipping through the curtains, and then, if he was lucky, Evelyn moving around the kitchen, her auburn hair still messy from sleep.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been here. The days blurred together, simple and quiet, a stark contrast to the fragmented memories that haunted his mind. He saw glimpses of another life—flashes of a city skyline, the feeling of expensive leather beneath his fingertips, a woman’s perfume lingering in the air. But none of it made sense.
None of it felt *real*.
Evelyn’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to chop the wood?”
Nathan blinked, realizing he had been gripping the axe handle without making a single move. He turned to find her watching him with an amused expression, her arms crossed over the oversized sweater that hung loosely on her frame. She had already started working, carrying freshly cut logs toward the pile beside the porch.
“You’re making me look bad,” he muttered, stepping forward to fix his stance.
She smirked. “You *are* bad at this.”
He huffed. “I’m getting better.”
It wasn’t a lie. His hands—calloused and rough from days of unfamiliar labor—were proof of that. Whatever life he had lived before, it hadn’t required chopping wood, fixing broken fences, or hauling supplies from town. But here, with Evelyn, he had no choice but to adapt.
He swung the axe down hard, splitting the log clean in two. Evelyn let out a slow whistle. “Alright, *maybe* you’re improving.”
“Damn right I am,” he muttered, setting up another log.
Evelyn moved to sit on the porch steps, resting her chin on her palm as she watched him. He could feel her eyes on him, observing, analyzing, as if she were trying to figure out something she hadn’t quite put her finger on.
After a while, she broke the silence. “Do you ever think about what happens next?”
Nathan paused, gripping the axe tighter. “Next?”
“When you remember.” Her voice was careful, almost hesitant. “When you find out who you are.”
His chest tightened.
He wanted to tell her the truth—that the idea of remembering scared him more than not knowing. That sometimes, he wished the flashes of another life would just stop coming altogether.
Instead, he forced a small shrug. “I don’t know.”
Evelyn studied him for a moment, then nodded as if accepting his answer.
“Well,” she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Until then, you’re stuck with me.”
A slow, unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.
He wasn’t sure if it was comfort or fear.
Maybe both.
- Writer
