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It was almost like she could fly.The warmth of the cabin was masked by the chill that began to erupt up her spine, an almost imperceptible tremor that went unnoticed, simply because no one else was around. She had been foolish, and lost track of time. She hadn’t noticed the voices fade into the wind, until there was nothing left but the dancing ice and snow that twirled around the logs, signalling danger, danger, danger.Her cheeks burned.‘Come here, Jean.’Sometimes, the voice was tipsy. Swollen with fermented pride and pissed away frustrations. She was lucky then. Mead dulled the mind, and slowed one’s reflexes, making it easy to escape.She continued to scratch the wood, more intensely now. She didn’t notice, but her hands were beginning to draw upon the fire, her fingers sparkling with flames, drawing red tears of sap from the oak, her hands now autonomous.Today the voice was sober. And the voice was coming closer.‘We don’t have long, Jean. Haven’t you missed me?’Suddenly, the voice. He turned the water from hot to cold and stepped in. Downstairs Cora put the chicken in the oven. It was going to take about a half an hour to cook thoroughly. What will I do for a half an hour? she thought and leaned against the counter. She looked down at herself. Covered in horsehair and smelling like one too. There was only one shower in this house. She stood there deciding how bold she felt. On a scale of one to ten she decided she was about an eight on boldness and made her way upstairs. She knocked twice on the bathroom door and to her surprise found it unlocked. She walked in and could just barely see the shadow of Ronnie’s body. ‘Cora?’ Ronnie called over the hum of the water. ‘Yes?’ she answered innocently. ‘What are you doin’ out there?’ ‘I was gonna ask if I could join in on the shower while the food cooks. I’m a mess and I’d like us to both be fresh for dinner.’ ‘Oh, yeah, well I’ll hurry then.’ ‘No need I’m already naked out here.’ Ronnie swallowed what felt like a.
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