by Smitty
Three hour drive. The hike from the parking area, where he left the phone with the jeep (barely one bar, anyway) was five miles, mostly uphill.
The waves of stress rolled off during the trek. He’d return on the morrow for the supplies.
For now, the task was to get to the cabin, crack the place open, and get the heat on.
He’d sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, wake up, eat, move the aforementioned supplies, and then sit down with pen and spiral notebook, completely unplugged from the grid and contemporary distraction, and sink into his opus.
—
via Darleen