You opened your eyes. Was it always so bright? You squinted as you held up your hand to shield your vision from the window, making a note to buy a curtain or something the cover the window which the sunlight was leaking in from.

You sat up in bed, feeling rested and energetic. You wondered why until it hit you: no nightmare. You'd slept in, too. No waking up at two or three in the morning. No fear. No guns. No mother. She'd let you be for one night finally. Maybe she wasn't as bitter as she seemed.

It was chilly in the room, and your fingers and toes felt it. You could feel the chill inset itself into your bones and stay there, eating away at your flesh as they begged for warmth.

"Add heater to the list," you mumbled to yourself, hugging yourself and rubbing your shoulders. You needed to run to the store anyway.

Then the thought of coffee entered your mind. That was warm. A hot mug would at least chase the cold from your fingers.

You put on some thick winter socks you'd extracted from the lone suitcase you'd brought and walked into the kitchen, swiftly getting the tiny Brewer going as you added your secret ingredient to the mix: Vanilla Extract and a pinch of Cinnamon powder.

Before your mother's passing you'd been a sound cook, good with people and good with food as well. Back then, you'd been chef of a small restaurant and everyone had loved your food, but as you'd grown more sad, so had your cooking. Spices tasted more bland, wrong things were added at the wrong times. Eventually you were "let go" as they'd so kindly put it.

Well, it was high time you got your sense back. It was time to get your life back. And what better place to start than pancakes?

You took a pad of paper from your coffee table as the actual coffee brewed, and began writing a list.

-Flour (all purpose)
-Sugar
-Baking Powder
-Powdered Sugar (ground cinnamon optional)
-Salt
-Eggs
-Milk
-Vegetable Oil (Canola optional)
-Heater (oil)
-Cover for window

You read over the list several times, nodding once in approval after finishing and looked up as you heard a small ding. The coffee was done.

Shuffling over to grab the precious pot and pour it into the single blue coffee cup you'd saved from the house sale, you sighed happily as you took a sip. You'd learned to like it black, knowing that it was cheaper than loading it with sugar and creamer. It at least sounded healthier in your mind.

It was already cold, so you decided to walk outside, standing on the balcony walkway as you sipped at your steaming cup. A thin, snuggie-like robe was wrapped around your thin frame as you looked out across the road that cut through the land parallel with the apartment complex you were staying at with the Café right across from it.

You liked it here. It wasn't too noisy or too slow. Since you were in the upper part of California, you were in a smaller town with a city roughly fifteen minutes away. All in all it was a good little set up. You hadn't yet entered the city, nor did you see a reason to. There was a small grocery mart close by along with other stores like the Café, a hardwood supply store, an antique store, and even a larger theatre that had been operating in the town since 1982.

Yes, you knew quite a lot about the town for a relative newcomer. You'd done your research. After all, you weren't about to move somewhere based on a simple whim and a need to get away from your old life. It'd worked, though. All your research had brought you to this town. To Mark.

A smile caressed your face as you thought of the friendly man and the fun you'd had yesterday. He'd improved your mood exponentially and you were very grateful for it. If only you could do something to repay him...

Then an idea came to you: his computer! Bob, a friend of his and YouTuber himself, had been supposed to come over to visit him and take a look at his computer, but his wife had caught Pneumonia and so he had to cancel. According to what you'd been told yesterday, the computer that had been sitting all alone on a desk in the corner of his recording room was his main editing computer. Without it, he couldn't edit his videos properly.

You'd worked in your father's tech shop when you were in highschool and were well versed in the ways of the computers there. Surely you could recall enough to at least help a little.

You pulled out your phone, opening the internet and typing in a search for an explanation of the basic components of a computer these days.
Your smile widened; surely this would be what you needed to repay him.