The Cabin

We collected amusement along our travels, in similar quantity to bits of old tin, or the old rusty tin tied to our roof added to their amusement. I guess we carried a harmless charm, which seems to have saved us along the way, our failures endearing, our enthusiasm inspiring.

We tied our cargo to the roof, being careful not to worsen Mary’s wound, heading back to our clearing. A calmness took over and we began a simple frame, of a simple little house. Twigs tied and nailed together, the shape emerged as the sun began to set. I made a simple meal, William made a fire. Routines of comfort and practicality.