The cottage wasn't exactly as Marie had imagined. Nor was it what the magazine advertised. But it was a home nonetheless. Its stone walls were weathered but sturdy, its windows framed with flower boxes brimming with wild blooms. A winding path led up to the door, where a small wooden sign swung gently in the breeze, with the number 66 carved into the wood. The village had given her the home with a warm smile and promises that it would be a safe haven.
The inside smelled faintly of lavender and aged wood, and the fireplace sat ready for the kindling. It was small but charming. a cozy retreat after her long journey. Marie exhaled as she dropped her suitcase by the door, stretching her arms in relief. The journey had left her drained, but the sight of the cottage filled her with an unfamiliar sense of belonging. one that she desperately needed.
The villagers had welcomed her with open arms. their kind words, baskets of fruit and bread, and even a bottle of wine wrapped in cloth. They seemed genuinely delighted to have her, smiling warmly as they told her tales of the village and promised to show her around in the coming days. Yet, behind their smiles lingered a subtle hesitation. it seemed as though they were holding back something Marie couldn't quite place.
Marie quickly shook the thought from her mind as she unpacked her belongings. She placed her sketchbooks carefully on the wooden table by the window, lining up her pencils beside them in neat rows. Her paintbrushes went into an old wooden cup, which she placed on the mantel next to the framed photograph of her family. a frozen moment in time, her parents smiling brightly, her younger self caught mid-laughter. It had always been her anchor, a reminder of simpler days. when life didn't seem so hard and every breath came easy.
Unpacking brought a flood of memories rushing back. her mother's encouragement as she painted her first canvas, her father's patient smile as he hung her artwork in the living room, her sister teasing her about smudges of paint on her cheeks. laughing about how silly she looked. Leaving them hadn't been easy. The weight of her decision tugged at her now, but she reminded herself that this move was about finding herself, about creating a new chapter in her life. And hopefully finding the one.
By the time she finished unpacking, the moon hung high in the sky, casting silver light across the village. It's fullness lulling her to sleep. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, and she climbed into bed, grateful for its soft, warm embrace. She pulled the quilt over her shoulders, more than ready to surrender to sleep.
As her eyes drifted shut, movement caught her attention. A shadow passed by the window. A quick and silent motion that made her heart skip. She froze, staring at the glass, her breath shallow. But after a moment of stillness, she brushed it off. It was probably a bird, she reasoned, or her tired mind playing tricks.
"it's just nerves" she whispered to herself
Her eyes grew heavy, and she fell into a deep sleep. Outside, the village settled into silence.