Slow Burning Fire
Soaked! Nothing could be more disappointing than crawling into bed and laying in an icy wet spot. I jump out and pull the heavy brown quilt down to discover the cause of the wetness. I don't drink in my bed, it can't be anything I've spilled on the bed. I haven't wet the bed, I hope it's not from an animal that came inside the cabin to escape the snow. Snow. Of course it's snow, I look up and can see a fine flutter of snow falling from a hole in the ceiling. I sigh, what I viewed as quaint...
Love Stories