A Short Story About an Old Woman

The view outside my cabin door.
The view outside my cabin door.

She breathed more deeply – trying to fill her lungs with the pine and cedar scented air.  She prayed for family and for childhood, failing to remember times of warmth and care.

Demons danced around her and she fell into her way, of resting near the fire and of seeking solitude.  Her song of death, though soft and shallow, filled the aging house and spilled out through the cracks and vanished into night.

Then in the flames she saw the children run and play – herself amongst them too.  The woman smiled and once again she sang the song that passed her lips when once she fell in love.  And when the fire burned so low, she filled her lungs with pine and cedar scented air.

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