Page 10
Story: Reborn To Let Go
There was a long line at the ticket window. When I finally reached the front, there were no tickets to Eastmoor available. The earliest ticket would not be until the day after tomorrow.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, wondering where I could go now that I couldn’t sleep on the streets.
Marcus appeared in front of me, carrying bags and packages, just as I was about to give up.
“Elara!”
His face lit up with a delighted smile as he hurried over; I was surprised and greeted him with a smile, “Marcus!” What a coincidence. Are you from SnowCity, too?”
“Yes! What is this? Have you got nowhere to go?”
Marcus’ tone was one of concern: “Why don’t you spend Christmas Eve at my house?””
I froze for a moment before quickly waving my hands. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Oh, what makes it inappropriate?”It’s just my grandmother and me at home, so it’s pretty quiet,” he said with a laugh. Having you there would brighten things up.
“Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. I’d worry about you being all alone.”
He took a breath and said, “Please, Elara, just think of it as keeping my poor grandmother company. The old lady gets so bored at home by herself.”
His pitiful expression made me laugh, despite myself. I was unable to refuse such kindness and eventually agreed.
As we exited the station, a cold wind blew, and I couldn’t help but pull my coat tighter. When Marcus noticed this, he immediately removed his own coat and draped it over my shoulders. A faint woody fragrance enveloped me.
“Cold, isn’t it? SnowCity is much colder than Eastmoor.”
I shook my head, but warmth flowed through my heart.
Marcus lived in the city’s old district. It was a charming, two-story structure with traditional architecture. As soon as we walked into the courtyard, I smelt the delicious aroma of roasted chicken from the oven.
An elderly lady with silver hair stood at the kitchen door, smiling as we approached.
“Marcus, you’re back! And who is this?”
The old lady looked at me and said happily, “Oh my, you’ve brought home a beautiful young lady this year!”
I felt embarrassed and lowered my head, my cheeks warming slightly.
“Grandma, this is my friend, Elara,” Marcus said, smiling.
“How wonderful! Come inside and warm up.”
Marcus’ grandmother was busy cooking while Marcus helped me carry my suitcase to the guest room.
The guest room was small but clean and tidy, with bedding that smelt like sunshine.
“Rest for a while. “Dinner will be ready soon,” Marcus said softly as he set down my suitcase.
I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the snowflakes drift past the window, feeling an unrivalled sense of calm and tranquilly.
Perhaps this is how home felt.
That evening, we sat around the dinner table, enjoying a steaming hot Christmas Eve meal.
Mrs. Sandwood continued to serve me food while saying, “Elara dear, you must visit frequently. “My door is always open to you.”
I smiled and nodded, feeling warmth in my heart.
After dinner, Marcus suggested we go for a walk in the nearby winter park, which was nearly empty, with only a few couples huddled together, enjoying the rare silence.
We strolled along the lake, neither of us speaking; snowflakes fell gently, settling on us like a thin veil.
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, wondering where I could go now that I couldn’t sleep on the streets.
Marcus appeared in front of me, carrying bags and packages, just as I was about to give up.
“Elara!”
His face lit up with a delighted smile as he hurried over; I was surprised and greeted him with a smile, “Marcus!” What a coincidence. Are you from SnowCity, too?”
“Yes! What is this? Have you got nowhere to go?”
Marcus’ tone was one of concern: “Why don’t you spend Christmas Eve at my house?””
I froze for a moment before quickly waving my hands. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“Oh, what makes it inappropriate?”It’s just my grandmother and me at home, so it’s pretty quiet,” he said with a laugh. Having you there would brighten things up.
“Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. I’d worry about you being all alone.”
He took a breath and said, “Please, Elara, just think of it as keeping my poor grandmother company. The old lady gets so bored at home by herself.”
His pitiful expression made me laugh, despite myself. I was unable to refuse such kindness and eventually agreed.
As we exited the station, a cold wind blew, and I couldn’t help but pull my coat tighter. When Marcus noticed this, he immediately removed his own coat and draped it over my shoulders. A faint woody fragrance enveloped me.
“Cold, isn’t it? SnowCity is much colder than Eastmoor.”
I shook my head, but warmth flowed through my heart.
Marcus lived in the city’s old district. It was a charming, two-story structure with traditional architecture. As soon as we walked into the courtyard, I smelt the delicious aroma of roasted chicken from the oven.
An elderly lady with silver hair stood at the kitchen door, smiling as we approached.
“Marcus, you’re back! And who is this?”
The old lady looked at me and said happily, “Oh my, you’ve brought home a beautiful young lady this year!”
I felt embarrassed and lowered my head, my cheeks warming slightly.
“Grandma, this is my friend, Elara,” Marcus said, smiling.
“How wonderful! Come inside and warm up.”
Marcus’ grandmother was busy cooking while Marcus helped me carry my suitcase to the guest room.
The guest room was small but clean and tidy, with bedding that smelt like sunshine.
“Rest for a while. “Dinner will be ready soon,” Marcus said softly as he set down my suitcase.
I nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the snowflakes drift past the window, feeling an unrivalled sense of calm and tranquilly.
Perhaps this is how home felt.
That evening, we sat around the dinner table, enjoying a steaming hot Christmas Eve meal.
Mrs. Sandwood continued to serve me food while saying, “Elara dear, you must visit frequently. “My door is always open to you.”
I smiled and nodded, feeling warmth in my heart.
After dinner, Marcus suggested we go for a walk in the nearby winter park, which was nearly empty, with only a few couples huddled together, enjoying the rare silence.
We strolled along the lake, neither of us speaking; snowflakes fell gently, settling on us like a thin veil.