The Things That Feel Like Home
Nov 4 · 6 min read
Writing in the dim light, cold seeping in through the cracks around the cabin’s door and poorly sealed windows, she struggled to keep the pencil gripped between the increasingly numb fingers of her hand.
Detta rolled her stiffening shoulders and felt a fresh bolt of pain, a fresh stream of blood coursing down her back. She’d given up trying to staunch the flow, trusting the cold to congeal what it could. Still…


