Overseas

Along The Seashore

​​​​​​A big steadying breath was all tord needed.

He felt it filter out his tightened lungs, his throat in the harsh clutches of anxiety, and let his eyes relax from the strain they had been through earlier.

Grabbing the decent sized bag of vegetables, he tore open the top and grabbed a small handful, taking one of the five plates, which he had brought with him from his old home, out of the cupboard and dumping the assortment of edibles into it. He then carefully placed the half full dish into the microwave and set it to cook.

All he could do as his body calmed down was watch the colorful plate spin around in a rhythm he felt only he was able to see. Like the one he noticed when riding a carousel back home as a kid. He though of the broad spectrum of various lights coming into sight in a pattern, bringing him to the image of twinkling stars on a wonderfully clear evening when he was able to sit and think to himself on the shingles of his home, just staring up at that familiar canvas speckled with light.

He finally felt himself relax.

A short jingle sounded when the light inside suddenly went out and the plate stopped turning. he blinked slowly, staying in his position for what felt like seconds, but in truth were actually several minutes, before picking himself up and away from the oddly comfortable spot on the kitchen counter and leaning to take hold of the microwave hadle. He blinked slowly he pulled it open and lazily took out the now cooked dish of vegetables.

Moments later, he plopped down onto the bed in the seperated room and began to chow down on the food. It satisfied him enough, the amount, but he knew his body would protest to his actions later into the night and cause his slight insomnia to intensify.

After successfully rinsing off the ceramic disk when he was finished, Tord decided there was nothing else to do, really, and made his way back into what he called his bedroom. There, he threw open the door like windows and let himself get lost in dusk's comforting breeze.

The curtains beside tord's figure lightly swayed back and forth in response to the small winds that circculated into his bedroom. Their simple pastel blue and white striped design wavered and shifted in his gaze.

He felt his eyes grow heavier as he laid his head in his hands, elbows standing on the window ledge that helped separate him from what seemed an eight-foot drop. Seeing as the whole apartment complex was on the edge of a small rocky cliff that ran along the wide beach, Tord knew it wouldn't be pleasant to fall from his place.

After a while of the sun disappearing slowly behind the horizon, he knew he should probably get rest.

The open window still let the soothing sound of the nearby crashing waves hit Tord's ears as he swaped out his jacket and tee with a plain white tank top. He left himself in boxers only, knowing, as always, this wouldn't be a cold night.

He still listened to the sea shore.

The morning was the same as the evening before:

Silence.

Complete quiet, which Tord cherished the whole few hours he stayed in his apartment. he knew the rest of those 24 hours wouldn't be nearly as comfortable, or offer the same peace.

He was quite accurate about it.

That day, the center of the town seemed to be bustling with more people than he had seen at the market the day before. He couldn't even estimate how many handfuls there might be. Let alone seperate crowds. it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but he forced those nervous feelings down, telling himself it would be okay.