I travelled for nearly a full day to the cabin in the woods. I ate bad fast food, and slept in the car when I could barely stay on the road.
Night fell before I arrived and I drove through the darkness. I never saw another light from a car, a house, or a yard. Only the long winding gravel road in my headlights.
When I pulled up, the cabin was like a shipwrecked ship caught by a searchlight of a rescue helicopter. But I didn’t care. It was to be my sanctuary.
I scuttled inside and shut the door tight. I worked to stoke the stove, to build the heat, and to push back the biting cold outside. The flickering orange flames lit room and cast back the shadows.
But the quiet didn’t subside and no matter how much the fire crackled or I spoke out loud, I could not push back what hovered in the silence.
It wasn’t monsters knocking at my door. Nothing came at night. To be honest, any of that would have been a relief.
It was me and me alone.
And it was my undoing.
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