In Sickness and in Welsh: Chapter 2 – Home

Rhys stood back and admired his own handiwork. He’d managed to move all his furniture in without anything more than a few lifts from the postman who’d stopped to ask him questions. One of the best things about living in a small country town was that the people were incredibly curious and didn’t mind asking your whole life history. One of the worst things about living in a small country town was that the people were incredibly curious and didn’t mind asking your whole life history.

The postman was a sharing fellow himself. He’d managed to find out about what they already knew about him: a young doctor, Welsh and experienced with other Welsh people (because apparently they differ to regular people and doctors should know this), he specialised in general surgery, and he was in his early thirties and single. It was interesting that so much information had flowed down to the postman but on the other hand, given how much information the hospital had about him, this wasn’t too bad. The postman had made a big effort to talk about his own daughter (single, beautiful if he did say so himself, and working as an apprentice baker) and how he really needed someone to love during winter. The man was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

They moved in the bigger pieces of furniture. He had a mismatched set of everything. He enjoyed big comfy chairs and loved the way it looked next to a thin legged side table. It made the table seem more fragile and the couch seem like it could swallow a person. The cottage was large and open. The previous owners had knocked down some internal walls to make it feel like an open plan apartment. The result was a strange juxtaposition with the external and internal.

With all the large pieces of furniture moved in, and realising he’d gotten all the information he could, the postman left. Rhys stood and looked at his furniture. He ran a hand through his auburn hair. The hill was conquered. He only really needed to unpack all the small things. He could do that a room at a time.

Wandering through his cottage he found himself standing outside looking into the small patch of forest behind his house. He wanted to explore and move but he was also uncertain of his new surroundings. There was much to see and learn about living here in a small town. Every action he did could be misconstrued or misinterpreted and he didn’t want to start the rumour mill going too much before his first shift.

He turned back and looked at the cottage noting that he’d idly turned off any lights and pulled the door closed. He’d wander through the trees for a bit and clear his head, then he could unpack the kitchen at the least. Looking up at the sky it was cold but clear and walking would warm him up enough to make it through the walk itself.

Rhys set off into the trees walking toward the West where he’d watch the sunset, or at least the afternoon light setting in.

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