after the frightening events of halloween, the town was left looking a sorry state. when news spread that the town were looking for volunteers to help clean up the mess left behind, belle added her name onto the growing list of volunteers.
she hummed away to herself while she swept up some debris of small broken branches, leaves and chips from broken wooden fences. she know she wouldn't be much help with any heavy lifting but she was happy to assist where she could.
"do you have any more bags that i can sweep this pile into?"
It seemed that people kept turning to him today, one after another, as if he had somehow become visible in a way he wasn’t used to. First there had been a woman offering him food, her simple kindness unsettling him more than hunger ever could. Now someone else stood before him, asking if he had a bag to spare.
“I’m sorry, no,” he said softly, carefully, as though politeness alone might make up for what he lacked. “But I can look for one if you really need me to.”
The words felt thin, insufficient. He wished he could help more—wished he had something real to give back to this town and its warm-hearted people. They had fed him without question, without knowing who he was or where he came from, and that generosity weighed on his chest. He clung to the fragile hope that soon they might offer him shelter as well, and that one day he might finally repay the kindness that had kept him standing. That by offering them a listening ear without judgement.