59: the cabin
Inside, the clock ticked steadily. Outside, the birds chirped and the wind chimes swayed softly with the breeze. On windy nights, their song never ceased; now, it came in gentle ebbs and flows. As I sat at the dining room table, in the main room of the cabin, a musty, doggy aroma emanated from all the soft furnishings, and no doubt from the two cosy doggy-beds in the corner. I could hear Bruno snoring in the next room, while Trixy sat silently behind me. Even in stillness, I could feel her readiness to react: to follow me should I get up, to prick up her ears if I made a sound. I did neither as the taste of peppermint tea lingered on the roof of my mouth, customary for this time in the afternoon. The cabin was as still as me, but life ticked on, quietly and surely.
