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Read a book, watch movies, go to the gym and repeat. This is the summary of the months following the discovery of the time shape map. Eske would entertain his days easily with chores and a healthy routine. But he was not one for idleness; there were always books that needed reading or films to be seen. He had never been much in favour of exercise. The thought of sweating made him feel queasy when it should have stimulated his blood. But, now, he found himself growing addicted to jogging in the park while listening to his favourite mix tape and sometimes when he had nothing, would feed the ducks at the lack. He had this constant suspicion he would be contacted by that strange organization that bought his apartment. He would need to vacant sooner or later, but still nothing. It seemed they wanted no contact from him whatsoever. Indeed their silence only added fuel to his suspicion. Read a book, watch movies, go to the gym and repeat. The nights were the worse time of the routine. Eske would let his mind take over and revisit his last 17 years. The despair of losing Nona, the toxic relationship with Alice, and how he behaved with her. Their short-termed marriage, he doesn't even recollect the day. And the capsules with parts of Nona that was the worse. What tormented him at night, her memories, her childhood, the deeds against her humanity, those were the nocturnal voices he couldn't silence at all. There was some sort of relief that she wasn't here, that she wouldn't witness what he did. The last task, forgive yourself, was something he couldn't do. Not yet, and maybe never.

The noise of plates clashing against each other. Cups placed over the table, and a clinging of cutlery ended with the dry sound of the drawing being closed. It smelled like apple pie and coffee coming from the kitchen, and then a soft whisper, a melody spiralling around his ear. Eske opened his eyes and tried to understand where the noise came from. Maybe the upstairs neighbours?

He turned on the bedside, trying to ignore it. But whispers tangled with a familiar melody and steps. Soft steps paced inside the house. Someone was in there!

He got up quickly and walked carefully to the kitchen. Nine. Eske felt petrified entirely on the spot. Nine. The door stood slightly open, and he saw through into what looked like a young woman dressed in sportswear, shorts and a top, completely stained with dirt, mud, dust and more he couldn't identify. Her hair was tangled and covered in white powder, and her legs and arms were scratched with bruises. She turned and looked at him: 'Good morning, love of my life.'; with the hugest smile he hadn't seen for a very long while.

'I made breakfast. Literally, I made everything. I'm so proud of myself. So coffee made chez moi. And made Äppelkla-something-pie, but I want to call it Earth Pie, got the joke? Is smart, right?'; she stopped talking and saw him with no reaction, and her smile faded away. She looked at her bare feet full of blisters: 'Are you mad?'

It took a very long minute for Eske to answer: 'No.'

'You look mad.'

'I'm not.'

'Please say something. Yell at me, shout, I don't know Eske, you are kinda freaking me out right now. I know I totally went out of the chart. But I had to. I was so close! Baby, I was so close! And then, it wasn't it. I was about to give up, and something amazing happened. Baby, I don't know how to explain. It is like part of me which was gone and came back, puff. So I stopped looking, and I made it. I fucking made it. Two days and a half! The last guy took seven days. It must be a record somewhere! And I fucking built us a home. So please, if you're mad, just tell me, get it out. I'm a big girl, and I can handle it. So do it!'; she stood still, looking at the floor, waiting for him to lose it.

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Eske walked in her direction. He didn't dare to touch Nona: 'What happened?'; was the only thing he could mumble.

'Baby, I just told you.'

'Why are you hurt?'; he grabbed her arm very carefully and caressed it with his thumb: 'You are all bruised and cut. Who did this?'

'No one, I was just clumsy.'; she answered. Eske looked more closely at her face and noticed some minor cuts over her nose. Then he looked at her hands and feet, covered in scratches. He placed his hand against her cheek. She was warm. 'I made pie.'; she dared to say.

'What year did we meet?'

'Hum, 1944. Why are you asking me this?'

Eske nodded but was not yet quite satisfied: 'Okay, and what's my middle name?'

'It's Otto. Are we playing a game?'

'I know, you know this answer. I need something else...think...think...'; Eske mumbled to himself and clicked his tongue: 'Why don't we have cats?'

'Because you said no, with the lame excuse you are allergic.'; Nona laughed and stopped immediately, forcing a serious face and repeating: 'You're allergic.'

'So what's the real reason?'

Nona raised one eyebrow but answered: 'You are completely terrified of kitties.'

'Why?'

'I don't know, you never told me.'; she replied. 'Why are you asking me all this? I know who you are! I can remember you! I said the proper greeting!'

Eske's eyes trembled, and he bit his lips: 'Fuck, it's really you.'; he pulled her into his arms and hugged her as tight as he could with his nose in her hair. 'I so fucking missed you!'

'Baby, I was just gone for two days.'

'Two days?'

'Took me longer because of the pie.'

'It has been 17 years, Nona.'

'No. No, it can't be. It was two days and a half! I wouldn't leave you that long.' She pushed herself away, and Eske let go. 'No, I wouldn't do that to you. No!'; she started crying, and Eske put his arms around her again.

'It's okay. It's okay.'; Eske whispered in her ear: 'You're here now.'

'It's not okay!'; she shouted angrily.

Eske held onto her tighter and kissed her forehead gently: 'It's okay. I'm okay.'; he led her to the couch and swiped her tears with his fingers. 'But I need to tell you what happened while you were gone.'

He told her everything, every detail. He was careful with his words but didn't sugarcoat the last years. Told her about the five years he waited, about how the numbers went silent. How he got in trouble and ended up in a support group for anger management. About Alice and the lab. About why he married her and why he divorced. He told her everything. And at each word, he held her hand tighter, afraid she would stand up and leave again.

'Do you want to taste my pie?'; was what she said when he finished.

'Pie?'

'Earth Pie', she smiled. 'I made it.'; she stood up quickly and brought a plate for each one. 'Here, try it.'; she sat down next to him and handed him a fork.

Eske gave the first bite that would taste just like a memory.

The morning sunlight gleamed in the kitchen with a warm stove still lit. Displaying dust, the leftovers of the flour floating against the ray. The beaming smile of his mother calling his name, and next to her, a tall man in a suit with long black locks holding a wooden pipe and staring at his son with yellow-golden eyes. His dad, who was a man always so serious, was kissing his wife and pulling his son close to lift him in his arms.

Eske looked at Nona, astonished and asked: 'Why does this taste like home?'

'Because it was made at home.'; she gave him an innocent smile. 'Our home.'; and put the fork in her mouth. Eske just realised this was the first time he saw Nona eat and enjoy it.

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