(no subject)
Henri didn't immediately notice that something was wrong when he woke up in the morning. There were any number of things he might have noticed - the give of the mattress, the feel of the sheets, the texture of the air - but sleep still held him too comfortably in its grip for him to wonder. With a yawn he rolled on his side towards the edge of the bed. Only then did he open his eyes,
And that was when it all hit him. Facing him against the wall - a real wall made of solid wood and painted plaster - was a wash stand that certainly hadn't been there when he went to sleep. Next to it was a bookshelf, and as his eyes began to go around the room, he also saw a desk neatly stacked with books and papers. All were familiar. All were objects he never thought he would see again.
It had happened. How, or why, or when, he did not know. But that one mysterious island trick that he had come to truly dread had happened.
His stomach clenched and his heart rose in his throat. He was home.
And that was when it all hit him. Facing him against the wall - a real wall made of solid wood and painted plaster - was a wash stand that certainly hadn't been there when he went to sleep. Next to it was a bookshelf, and as his eyes began to go around the room, he also saw a desk neatly stacked with books and papers. All were familiar. All were objects he never thought he would see again.
It had happened. How, or why, or when, he did not know. But that one mysterious island trick that he had come to truly dread had happened.
His stomach clenched and his heart rose in his throat. He was home.