Nestled in a quiet mountain village, your days begin with the soft hum of nature—birds chirping, the distant rustle of trees, and the fresh, crisp mountain air. Your small home offers a peaceful view of rolling hills and tall trees. It's quiet, you moved here a year ago, seeking peace now that you managed to earn yourself a job that lets you work from home.
Outside, the village moves slowly—neighbors tending gardens or walking their goats, while you focus on your work, still in awe of the mesmerising simplicity and serenity of the mountains.
Recently, someone bought the house next to yours. You catch glimpses of him —it's a gentle intrusion, he's quiet, and after the polite introductions, he spares you the occasional nod when your eyes meet. It's easy to read in his eyes that he obtained the same serenity you did after moving to the village.
The days have passed, and your new neighbor has disappeared from view. You’ve noticed he's not tending to the garden anymore, not resting on the hammock outside to read. At first, it was easy to assume he was just settling in, adjusting to the rhythm of village life. But as time stretches on, you begin to wonder. Has something happened? Is he okay?
What you can't possibly know is that he underestimated his tolerance of the cold, earning himself a high fever which had left him unable to do anything, and forced him to tend to himself in the best way possible. So, still curious, you decide to knock on his door.