Stay Strong

George

The next few days passed in a haze for Carina. She stayed in George’s flat, too nervous to venture outside after her first encounter with the townspeople. The memories of their angry faces and harsh words lingered, making her feel unwelcome and out of place.

George, on the other hand, went about his routine as if it were second nature. He seemed to take her sudden appearance in stride, though Carina occasionally caught him looking at her with curiosity, as if he were piecing together a puzzle.

“You can’t hide in here forever,” George said one morning as they ate breakfast. His voice was calm but firm, the tone of someone who meant well but wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I know,” Carina replied, her eyes on her plate. “It’s just... overwhelming.”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I get that. But the world isn’t going to stop moving. If you’re stuck here, you’ve got to live in it.”

Carina looked up at him, studying his face. His blue eyes were warm, his expression one of quiet determination. There was something about him that made her feel safe, even in a world that felt so alien.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Where do we start?”

George decided to take Carina to the local library, a quiet place where she could ease into her surroundings without drawing too much attention. The walk there was uneventful, though Carina couldn’t help but notice the occasional curious glance from passersby.

The library was a grand old building, its stone facade weathered by time. Inside, the air was cool and smelled faintly of aged paper. George led Carina to a secluded corner, where he pulled a few books from the shelves and handed them to her.

“Here,” he said. “These will give you a sense of the world you’re in now. History, etiquette, that sort of thing.”

Carina opened one of the books, scanning its contents. It was fascinating to see the world through the lens of the 1930s, though it only served to remind her how far she was from her own time.

As she read, George settled into a chair across from her, watching her with quiet interest.

“So,” he said after a while, “are you ever going to tell me the truth about where you’re from?”

Carina hesitated, her hands tightening around the book. She had been dreading this moment, unsure of how to explain something so impossible.

“I don’t think you’d believe me,” she said finally.

George raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Taking a deep breath, Carina told him everything—the park, the door, the strange sensation of stepping through time. She watched his face closely, expecting disbelief or even mockery, but he remained calm, his expression thoughtful.

“That’s... quite a story,” he said when she finished.

“You don’t believe me,” Carina said, her shoulders sagging.

“I didn’t say that,” George replied. “It’s a lot to take in, sure, but I’ve seen enough strange things in my time to know the world doesn’t always make sense.”

Carina stared at him, surprised. “You believe me?”

“I believe you believe it,” George said with a small smile. “And until I have reason to think otherwise, that’s good enough for me.”

Relief washed over Carina, though it was tinged with uncertainty. She still didn’t know how to navigate this new reality, but at least she had someone who was willing to stand by her.

As they walked back to the flat, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the street, Carina felt a flicker of hope.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” George asked, glancing at her.

“For not thinking I’m crazy,” she replied.

George chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve still got a lot to learn about living here.”

Carina smiled, the first genuine smile she had managed since arriving in 1930. Perhaps, with George’s help, she could find her footing in this unfamiliar world.