Memories keepers
1005 Words
The sound of ticking from the clock woke her up.
Liana stirred under the thin blanket, eyes fluttering open to a chorus of clocks chiming in mismatched rhythm. For a moment she forgot where she was. The ceiling above her was low, yellowed with age, nothing like the grand ceilings her heart thought she should remember though she couldn’t say why.
for some reasons she had this strong feeling about being from a rich home
She sat up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. The shop was dim, only thin stripes of sunlight seeping through the blinds. Jonas was hunched over a desk, already tinkering with something that sparked faintly under his hands.
“Good morning,” she said softly rubbing her right eye with her fingers.
He glanced up, brow arched. “Morning? Try afternoon.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Oh. I must have slept too long.”
“You slept like a rock,” Jonas muttered, twisting a wire. “Didn’t even move when the kettle whistled.”
She tilted her head. “Kettle?”
“Tea. Breakfast.” He jerked his chin toward a chipped mug sitting on the counter. “Anyways It’s cold now.”
Liana padded over and picked up the mug. She sniffed it, then frowned. “It smells…bitter.”
“That’s because it’s tea.”
Tentatively, she sipped. Her face crumpled instantly, tongue darting out. “It’s awful!”
Jonas pinched the bridge of his nose. “You asked for something warm. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
She set the mug down quickly, muttering, “It’s not warm anymore.”
---
Her stomach growled then, loud enough to echo in the quiet shop. Jonas looked up sharply.
“When was the last time you ate?”
She froze. The answer should’ve come easily, but her mind was blank. No memories, no meals, only the metallic taste of rainwater from last night. “I…I don’t remember.”
Jonas let out a long breath. “Great. if you don't remember anything then you should at least remember as small as this.”
He disappeared into the back and returned with two bowls of instant noodles. Steam curled up, filling the shop with salty warmth.
Liana’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”
He gave her a look. “You seriously don’t know what noodles are?”
" I don't think so". She said shaking her head.
“Unbelievable.” He shoved the bowl toward her. “Eat before you faint on my floor.”
She picked up the chopsticks gingerly, studying them like foreign tools. After several awkward attempts, she only managed to fling a strand onto her lap. Her lips tightened in frustration.
Jonas snorted. “You hold them like this.” He demonstrated with his own pair.
She tried again, mimicking him. This time she lifted the noodles successfully, but instead of eating, she blew on them too hard. The strand flew onto his desk, landing right on the circuit board he was fixing.
Jonas stared at it. “You’re a disaster.”
But when she covered her mouth in embarrassment, her cheeks puffed pink, he surprised himself by laughing. A real, unguarded laugh that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Liana blinked at him, then smiled slowly. “At least I made you laugh.”
His laughter died instantly. He cleared his throat and went back to eating. “Don’t get comfortable. You’re leaving today.”
Her smile faltered.
But deep inside, Jonas knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
The day passed in fits of silence and small discoveries.
Liana wandered the shop, touching objects like they held pieces of herself. A cracked mirror. A box of buttons. A wristwatch with no strap. Every time she picked something up, Jonas caught himself staring, waiting for recognition to spark in her eyes. But all she gave was wonder, as if she were seeing the world brand new.
At one point she held up an old camera. “Does this…remember things?”
Jonas raised a brow. “It takes pictures.”
Her fingers tightened around it. “So it keeps memories.”
He frowned. Something in her voice wistful, almost aching made him wonder what kind of memories she had lost.
---
By evening, Jonas was at his counter when the shop door creaked open. A customer shuffled in, holding a broken lamp.
“Evening, Jonas,” the man greeted. Then he noticed Liana standing barefoot near the shelves. “Oh, didn’t know you had…company.”
Jonas stiffened. “She’s just passing through.”
The man gave Liana a curious look but said nothing more, handing over the lamp. As Jonas examined it, Liana whispered, “It needs a new cord. And maybe polish on the base.”
Both men turned to her.
Jonas narrowed his eyes. “How would you know that?”
She blinked, startled. “I don’t know. I just…saw it.”
The customer chuckled. “Sharp girl you’ve got here. You should keep her around.”
Jonas’s jaw tightened. “She’s not mine.”
But the words felt heavier than they should.
---
Later that night, after the shop was locked and the lamps dimmed, Liana curled up again with the silver locket in her hand.
Jonas lingered by the doorway, watching her. He told himself it was foolish she was a stranger, probably trouble but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong in the streets.
And yet, she didn’t belong here either.
His eyes drifted to the locket. “What’s in there?” he asked.
She opened her palm. The locket gleamed softly in the light. “I don’t know. I’m…scared to open it.”
He frowned. “Why?”
Her voice trembled. “Because if I see what’s inside, maybe I’ll have to remember. And I’m not sure I want to.”
Jonas had no answer for that.
All he knew was this: the girl who didn’t belong to his word was already unknowingly threading herself into his quiet, broken life.
- Writer
