102

“Home sweet home.” Greta dumps her hand luggage in the center of the Tarry shack as I walk in behind her and gaze around the much-missed home of ours. Glad to be back here even though we were not gone all that long, not even far, and yet it feels like we went to another planet. That it’s been months instead of one. It’s the warmest and most relaxing breath of fresh air to walk in here, letting all my stresses go and basking in the feel of familiar safety.

We covered up everything with dust sheets down here since we didn’t know how long we would be gone, and this area gets a lot of incoming sand and salty air from the air vents, and it looks oddly abandoned. Everything is covered in cream cloth. All the chairs are upside down on surfaces, creating a sea of beige mountains with weird ridges and peaks.

“Where do you want these?” Bryant shuffles behind us with suitcases in hand, and Greta lurches into action. Instantly smiley and a