DAMIAN BLACKWOOD
I returned to my home only once the week after that.
That night, I painstakingly realized how drawn to Eleanor I had become, and how I felt by just being around her. It was a long night I could barely endure, and one that filled me with relief when the rays of sun touched my eyes. After that, I returned to my grandfather's house every night, where I found peace in the silence, the dogs, and above all, the woman.
I was there again on this particular night when I found her cooking a large meal. The kitchen smelled of broth and garlic as Eleanor moved with a quiet grace that was only interrupted by the tone she hummed while her hands chopped some greens on a board and a pot blew off steam on the stove. She did not hear me come in, and would not have known of my presence h
