My Entry for The BizarreGenreAwards

All The Things That Make It Warm

Everything is warm. And she starts to remember the times before.

Walking out of  her room.

Explaining her plans to her tearful parents.

The denial in their eyes and the moment they accepted it.

Leaving their house. Boarding the plane.
The long flight. The excitement.

Arriving in the airport. The realization: this was really happening.

Boarding the train to get to the small town.
Arriving there. Finding her way to the small apartment she bought.

Making a makeshift bed on the floor, until she could get furniture.

The next few weeks, a blur of working in the bakery down the street, shopping for furniture, and recovery.

The entire point of her moving here was recovery. And... it worked. Of course the effect wasn't instantaneous, but after a while, she started healing.

She wasn't completely healed yet, of course. It was hard. She likely wouldn't recover for a few years- she might never be fully healed.

It got better every day. Of course there were still bad days, but it was getting better; more bearable.

She no longer had to see living, breathing reminders of what happened every day.

She made friends at work. They weren't particularly close, but that was okay.

She needed to learn a bit about self-love before she was ready to love anyone new, even platonically.

It was getting better. The days of lying in bed all day and not being able to get up weren't gone- but there were fewer and fewer.

She was happier than she had been in months. Ever since the accident happened.

She made good money in the bakery.
She enjoyed working there, she made friends. It was a reason to get up in the morning.

She decorated her house. Warm yellow walls, hanging plants, deep brown furniture.

A few shelves on one wall, filled with books. A soft armchair, pillows and blankets on top. That was her reading nook.

An easel in the corner by the window; the natural light was good for painting.

A bed that she could swing up and fasten  to the wall; her desk and wardrobe beside it.

A nice big kitchen to cook and bake in.
Racks of spices and everything a baker needed.

And her favorite part?
The garden.

She had turned her backyard into a supply of food- there were berries and herbs of all kinds back there, tomatoes and potatoes, even an apple tree.

It was beautiful.

It had been a year.
Then two. She had close friends now, she was mostly recovered. She had learned to love herself and not torture herself over what could have been.

She and her friends began talking.
Discussing the size of her apartment, if the idea would work. And one day, they decided to go for it.

They started turning her apartment into a cafe. They bought the tables; installed a bigger, better oven, and a place to showcase her foods. They added a chalk board to write the menu on.

It took months of planning and prep. But it was finally the day. They were opening her cafe.

She turns to the crowd. Smiles. Snips the ribbon keeping them out of her newly opened cafe.

And as she thinks about how cold and dark her life was, until she came here, she cannot stop smiling.

And she tells the crowd, "Welcome to The Warm Things." She watches as they walk in, she smiles.

And she's happy. Truly happy. She had been in such a cold, dark place for so long.
She deserves this.

Deserves to be warm.

So she fills her heart up with all the things that make it warm.

She's -finally- warm.