Rhythm of Days

The cabin stood weathered but strong, its log walls darkened by years of sun and storm. It rested in the shadow of a distant, jagged mountain, a lone sentinel against a wide, uninhabited landscape. The dirt path leading to it was little more than a faint scar on the earth, winding through wild grass and scattered stones. Nature had long reclaimed this land, overgrowing everything but the small clearing where the cabin sat. Birds called from the trees that stretched toward the sky, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, and the scent of pine mixed with damp earth filled the air.

Inside the cabin, it was simple. A single room with a small hearth built from stones the man had collected from a nearby stream. A handmade table sat against the far wall, alongside a bed of animal pelts that offered little comfort but enough warmth to survive the cold nights. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of dried herbs, roots, and the few remaining supplies scavenged from the old world. There were no clocks, no screens—just the slow rhythm of days marked by the sun's rise and fall.

He was the last one here, maybe the last one anywhere, but he no longer wondered about that. Life, in its humblest form, had become his solace. The work was hard—chopping wood, gathering food, tending a small garden of wild vegetables—but it kept him connected to the earth in a way he hadn't known before the fall. The chaos of the old world, with its noise and destruction, felt like a distant nightmare.

He moved silently through his daily routine, as much a part of the landscape as the trees and the wind. The birds had grown used to his presence, and sometimes they would land nearby, watching him as if he were just another creature living out his days in the quiet woods. In the evenings, he would sit on the cabin’s small porch, watching the sun sink behind the mountain, the sky awash in colors so vivid they almost seemed unreal. It was a peace earned after years of struggle, and he felt no need for more than what this quiet life offered.

Here, in the shadow of the mountain, the world was still. And for now, that was enough.