When It's Time to Move On

Door 1 - Chapter 3 - Where Am I?

He saw his feet step on an Oakwood floor. As he looked around, he realized he was standing in a kitchen. Harris was immediately struck by the opulence of the kitchen and lounge that lay before him. The plush sofa, positioned on a stunning rug, faced a state-of-the-art television set, while the glass window doors revealed a breathtaking view of the ocean and a bed of sand that stretched out before him.

Harris stared transfixed. His gaze turned to his hand which grasped the doorknob. He turned it and looked back in. Nothing. No train station, no hallway, no levitating ball of light, just a spare broom closet. But how could it be?

The room was bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, and Harris took his first steps inside the house. Everything was immaculate, with no hint of dust on the shelves. On one of them, Harris spotted a piece of document with a heavily scribbled signature at the bottom. It probably had the owner's name, but Harris was too distracted by the stunning view outside to pay attention.

As he stepped out onto the beach, Harris felt the sand between his toes and the salty ocean breeze on his face. He couldn't help but laugh like a little boy, overcome with a sense of unpretentious elation. For a moment, he forgot why he was there - it had been so long since he'd been to the beach.

But then, a sudden memory came flooding back. He remembered a holiday from work, where he had been given access to his boss's beach house. The memories came back in a rush, and Harris realized that he had been here before.

He dashed back in and snatched up the document he'd glanced at a short while ago. There it was; the untidy scribble had to belong to him. This had all happened before. And now he was back.

"Where am I?" Harris whispered.

Overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all, Harris spent the first day inside the beach house, curled up on the couch, his eyes darting back and forth between the door and the room. He couldn't explain how he had ended up here, or what was going on.

Harris tried to organize his thoughts, to make sense of this bizarre situation. He recalled the vacation he had taken at his boss's beach house, situated in an upper-class district, filled with various recreational activities. But something was off - this felt different.

As the sun began to set, Harris decided to distract himself with some entertainment. He turned on the television and watched one of his favorite movies, Annie Hall. But as the movie played on, Harris realized that he was starving. He went to the fridge, but found it empty.

He opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the beach once again, feeling the chilly water lap at his feet. Despite the uncertainty of his situation, Harris couldn't deny that he felt a sense of comfort, as if he belonged here. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, even if it wasn't real.

As Harris walked along the shallow water, he saw a young couple approaching him. They were the first people he had seen since arriving at the beach house. The couple laughed quietly to themselves, settling down next to Harris, who eyed them warily.

"Hi there," the man greeted him. "Do you like strolling out on the beach in the morning, too?"

Harris responded with a simple "yes," not wanting to engage in further conversation.

"This is my wife, Jennifer," the man introduced his companion.

"We got married a few months ago," Jennifer beamed at Harris, who nodded politely.

The couple seemed amused by Harris's lack of interest, and the man continued the conversation.

"Anyway, we saw you arriving a couple of days ago and thought we'd say hey. It's nice to know our neighbors," the man said.

"So how long have you lived here?" Jennifer asked.

"I'm just here for the month," Harris replied.

"So how long have you got left in your stay?" the man inquired.

"I have no idea," Harris answered truthfully, but the couple took it as a joke and laughed.

"Tell me about it, time flies. I've been married a couple of months already, and my single days seem like a lifetime ago," the man said, using the word "lifetime" that stood out to Harris.

The couple seemed nice, but Harris thought it best to keep the fraternization to a minimum.

"It was nice meeting you, but I think I'd better get inside," Harris said, trying to hide his discomfort.

"Don't leave on our account," said Jennifer.

"No, I'm feeling kind of hungry, so I think I'll get breakfast," Harris replied.

"Then come on up to the Corner Inn," the man suggested. "They've got a great breakfast menu."

"Okay, sure. I'll be sure to ask for Jennifer and... Danny," Harris said, trying to remember their names.

"Just follow me," Danny said, leading the way.

But as he took a step, Harris felt a sharp pain in his foot. Looking down, he saw a small cut caused by a sharp shell.

"Are you okay there?" Danny asked.

"I'm fine," Harris said, observing his wound. It was a small spot, but it woke up a thought. The pain felt genuine, and the wound was visible. This had to be real. He couldn't be dreaming or hallucinating. He was really here, alive.

Excited at the thought, Harris turned to Danny and Jennifer, who were now looking at him with apprehension.

"You know what, breakfast does sound lovely," Harris said, suddenly eager to join them. "Do you guys want to go now?"

"Sure," Danny said, amused by Harris's sudden change in demeanor. "Don't you want to wear some slippers first?"

Harris laughed, slapping his forehead. "Oh, that's right. I'll be right back."

He ran inside and grabbed a pair of slippers, not even glancing at the signed document. Today was going to be a good day.