I'm not sure where to start.

Something about my time spent with that man did me good somehow. 

Two figures sat in the flower-covered yard of the empty house. A hastily scribbled sign at the entrance signified the home had no one to call its master, but the two seemed comfortable enough, or perhaps, one of them did.

(Originally written 6/25/20, and chronologically precedes One Man and A Handkerchief.)

Mortals:  A Case Study (Planning for Time)

Torech Besruth, Falathlorn, Lindon

16 Quellë in the Reckoning of Imladris (compiled from recollections of the day)       

((This song was my inspiration for this and I recommend listening to it as you read this story to get a better feel/immersion into it Hamrer Hippyer by Heilung ))

A smile crept over the woman's features as she examined the interior of the property. She stood beside a much older Bree-man, in an older farmhouse. The man had suggested a reasonable sum for the property. Indeed, she thought to herself, this place was perhaps too reasonable to be true. 

He thought perhaps that a refusal to eat would be rebellion enough. He thought that spitting at his jailors would make his feelings clear. He thought that his ever forceful manner of handling things, backed by his ego and pride, would be enough to get him out of this prison, too.

He had come a long way in the last few months. First he had agreed to stay, for the girls. That was a huge step in itself and he had never come to terms with it properly. Then he had learned to want some things for himself. Nothing major, just a small bucket list he'd only ever shared with one other... Who had since tried to wave it around in front of him like bait on a fishing hook.