Remote, quiet and off the grid. Only a deer trail to the door. A fixer upper the realtor had said. From the outside, the hand hewn, dovetail corners of the old log cabin spoke volumes. Its character surrounded by a once beautiful, but now overgrown, shin tangled yard. Stepping onto the porch, a small bench tucked against the wall, was the only welcoming party. The agent had said the door needed a little persuasion sometimes. Today, the handle turned without incident letting the light from outside stream across the room in the tiny home. The space inside sent her imagination reeling, taking her breath away. Everything was in its place. As if someone had gone out for a walk and forgot to come back. The wood stove with split logs stacked beside it. A bed frame made from poles. A table, a bench, dishes on the shelf. Drawn in by the need to dissolve the mystery, she closed the door and leaned against its solid frame. The discovery journey of the unknown had begun, and for now, the thought of what she might uncover, sent a shiver down her spine. |
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