The Poison of her Memory
In mid-spring, I often travel to a small lodge in the Rocky Mountains where I can enjoy the sights and sounds of emerging new life. The vast hordes of tourists have yet to show themselves, so it’s a very peaceful time where I get the chance to recharge and find a little peace before heading back to the city to indulge in the daily routines and conditioned views of the world.
I had rented the same small cabin as in years past. It was located furthest from the main part of Takkakawa lodge, had its own kitchen and food supplies, and the seclusion was soul healing. There was another cabin nearby, but I had never known anyone to rent it during my past visits so my expectations hadn’t changed. I arrived late in the afternoon and...
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