7:00 AM.
Carrie awoke as the digital alarm clock rung violently atop of her oak bedside table. She slapped her hand onto the alarm clock, shutting it up as quickly as it rang. Then, she fell back against her pillow, looking up to the ceiling as she allowed for her body to wake up.
A few days had passed since Carrie's first encounter with that strange, odd man. He was awkward to say the least, but perhaps that was the alcohol talking for him. What was his name again? Mickael? Maybe she would bump into him again sometime in the foreseeable future, but that didn't matter right now.
Carrie didn't want to get up. It was cold. Hell, it was always cold in Flåm; even during the warm seasons. Would that ever change? Most likely not.
It was time to get up.
Fine.
With a groan or two escaping her, and after staring up at her ceiling for a good two minutes, Carrie finally urged herself to get up and out of bed.
Wandering over to the shutters, Carrie slowly opened them, being greeted with the same view she saw every other day - the cold winter morning. She stood by the window for a moment as she observed the cold outside world, noticing the apparent fog that hung over the quiet asphalt road. The trees outside were also missing their leaves, leaving them naked in the cold winter air.
Continuing with her morning routine, Carrie began to change into her outfit for the day; she decided to wear a black cardigan, climbing into a pair of white track pants before sliding a beanie onto her head. To complete the look, she dug through the drawer in her bedside table to find a pair of glasses.
As she did, Carrie couldn't help but cease her search as she saw a shadow cross the corner of her eye - through the window.
Looking into the fog, Carrie noticed a slim and tall figure walk by, her eyebrows perked with curiosity.
How peculiar.
Nobody was out walking at this time - not this early in the morning. In such a small town like Flåm, you wouldn't expect anyone to be out early or to be out late.
Carrie's mind began to jump to conclusions.
Hiding her bottom lip, she observed the tall frame through the window. Through the ominous fog, it was impossible to make out the face of the person. Even when Carrie attempted to get a better look, their head swayed in the opposite direction anyway, their hands tucked comfortably into their coat's pockets. For some odd reason, the outline of the person seemed to resemble that of Mickael's. Or at least that's what she was reminded of.
Could it be? No, surely not.
Carrie quickly shut the shutters before the person could spot her - whoever they were. She huffed as she regained her composure and her focus.
Carry on.
8:00 AM.
The fog that hovered over the town slightly lifted after an hour, making visibility easier, now. The air was crisp and sharp, each breath visible as a fleeting puff of mist. Frost still clung to the edges of the naked branches of trees, shimmering in the pale light of dawn. Silence enveloped the landscape, broken only by the distant sound of water trickling down the swirling river.
With a scarf wrapped around Carrie's neck, it felt like a cord was choking her to death, growing tighter and tighter by the second. Maybe it was just her imagination. Though even if it was, it was beginning to bother her just slightly.
Carrie lifted her hand to feel the fabric of the beige scarf before slightly loosening it, some of the cold morning air finding it's way to kiss Carrie's neck.
YOU ARE READING
Cursed Proficiency
RomanceA lord of time - otherwise known as an immortal time traveller - struggles with a traumatic and heavy past. While drinking his sorrows away, he encounters a woman who peaks his interests and sparks a flame of desire within him. His life begins to tu...
