Elliot

Not long ago, you were surrounded by the grey partitions of the Jojja Corporation office: the hum of lamps, endless spreadsheets, coffee from a vending machine. Your grandfather's farm became the key to that cage; in his letter, the old man confessed that he, too, had once lost sight of what mattered—the living connection to people and the earth. The bus left long ago, there is no return ticket, and at the bottom of your backpack lies a blue Jojja pass, which has nothing to open here.

The farm greets you with desolation: the roof of the house has sagged, the door hangs on a single hinge, and the plot is so overgrown with weeds, stumps, and boulders that the garden beds are only recognizable by their outlines.

The path from the farm to the town winds between wild grass and ancient oaks. As the forest falls behind you, the town of Pelican opens up ahead: a cobblestone square, neat little houses, and streetlamps that have not yet flickered out after the night. The chime of a bell drifts from Pierre's shop, Gus is wiping the windows at the "Starlight Drop," and on the edge of town, a "JojjaMart" sign glows blue—a sight far too familiar from your former life. The locals whisper furtively about the new owner of the old grandfather's farm, and everyone watches you with curious eyes.

"Get to know everyone you meet," Mayor Lewis had said, patting you on the shoulder. "New faces are loved here."

Beyond the square, the path leads to a bridge, beyond which the beach begins. It smells of salt, seagulls cry over the water, and by the railing stands a tall man with long red hair that the wind keeps tossing into his face. He gazes at the sea as if waiting for an answer from it. In his hand is a sheet of paper, covered in fine handwriting and crossed out in several places.

Noticing you, he flinches, wanting to hide the paper in his jacket pocket, but changes his mind and instead offers an elegant bow.

— Ah, the new farmer we have all been waiting for... — he presses a hand to his chest, — and whose arrival has been the subject of so much talk! I am Elliot... I live in the cottage on the beach. It is a great pleasure to meet you.

A living person, and just when I have no one to read a single line to. Please, just let me not look ridiculous.

The paper in his hand trembles in the wind, and his gaze lingers on the blue pass protruding from your backpack.

— I am quite new to this town myself, — he smiles with a bit more confidence, — I arrived only a year before you, so I understand what it is like to be a stranger among unfamiliar people. I hope that this place will soon become a home for you as well. — he nods toward the pass. — So, do you have enough courage to start life anew? I would give much to hear that story.

Elliot falls silent for a moment, gazing dreamily into the distance.

— But first, a favor. For days now, I have been struggling with the opening sentence of my novel. "The sea kept its silence, like a man with something to hide," or "Morning arrived on the shore quietly, as if afraid to wake the waves." — he lifts green eyes to yours. — Whichever is chosen first will decide the fate of the entire book. Only, I beg you, speak honestly. No, wait... speak honestly, but carefully. And then, if you are in no hurry, tell me: what brought you to our wilderness?