Chapter 38: The Monday of the Blank Pages

Chapter 38: The Monday of the Blank Pages

The alarm clock rang at seven in the morning, but my eyes were already open. There was no trace of the heavy weariness that used to bury me in my old life; This time I woke up with a clean jump, driven by the expectation of the first official day at the publishing house. As I left my room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee already filled the wooden hallway. Ethan was in the kitchen, dressed in dark pants and a blue shirt that highlighted the color of his light blue eyes. He looked professional, a man of letters in his territory, but he received me with that same meek and complicit smile as every morning.

"Good morning, Astrid. Ready for your first day as an author in the house? He asked, handing me a steaming cup of that Norwegian coffee that had already become our hallmark.

"More than ready," I replied, taking a sip that lit up my chest.

We had a quick breakfast, sharing the last pieces of rye bread we had bought in the village. At half past eight we left the house with the green roofs. The air of Akureyri greeted us with a dry, exhilarating cold, the sky was clear, and the pale sun reflected off the calm waters of the fjord. We walked hand in hand, with a firm and sure step that marked the beginning of a completely new era.

When I arrived at the publishing house, Ethan pulled out a set of brass keys, opened the heavy wooden door, and gave me way. The smell of old paper, fresh ink, and wood wax enveloped me like a protective hug. The place was even more beautiful with the morning light filtering through the large windows. The bookshelves groaned under the weight of hundreds of multi-language volumes, and in the background, behind the counter, was a short corridor leading to the private offices.

Ethan guided me to a small but extremely cozy office that connected directly to his. It had a window overlooking the main street and a dark oak desk with a worn leather chair.

"This is your official workspace at the publishing house," Ethan said, leaning against the doorframe. Today I won't ask you to review other people's manuscripts or take care of the accounting. Your only contract for this week, Astrid, is to sit here, open your mind, and let the ideas flow. I want you to be happy.

He walked over slowly, gave me a soft kiss on the forehead, and returned to his office, leaving me alone in the sacred silence of books. I sat down in the leather chair, turned on the new laptop we'd brought from the cabin, and opened a blank document. The cursor flickered on the screen, like a heart beating in a clean body. For the first time in fifteen years, I didn't have to ask the world for permission to have a voice. I put my hands on the keyboard, closed my eyes for a second to remember the black sand of Vik, the cold of the cliff and the warmth of the terrace, and began to write my new novel.