Lyra
The days passed slowly on the island, but I decided I wouldn’t let the silence or the emptiness control me.
I refused to sit idle, staring at the walls and counting the waves.
I started doing something. At the front of the beach house, I cleared a little patch of sand and soil and began planting. It was nothing fancy, just a few herbs, flowers, and vegetables.
I found satisfaction in digging my hands into the earth, feeling the grit, and watching tiny green shoots push out of the soil.
The smell of salt mixed with fresh dirt was strangely comforting.
I discovered a small library inside the house. After spending a day exploring it, I discovered that the shelves were lined with books of every size. I had forgotten how much I loved reading.
I picked a few novels, flipping through
