The Way Through the Woods
The virgin snow crunched under the heavy boot of Jackson as he made his way through the woods, the purity of the snow and the freshness of the air made him feel good to be alive. The wood was silent except for the small sounds of small animals foraging in the under growth for food and shelter, they would be welcome to any scrapes he dropped. It wasn’t to far now, he could smell the smoke from the chimney just about and he involuntarily started to walk a little faster to his destination. As he drew the nearer the sound of logs being split ran through the frigid air welcoming him to his destination. Old man Hicks was at the chopping block piling up wood for the fire, a damp cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth as usual, he acknowledged Jackson’s arrival and indicated him to go into the cottage.
The welcoming scent of a stew being cooked had diffused itself around the interior and already Jackson was salivating, he headed toward the kitchen and found Mary attending the cooking pot. She smiled as he entered walk to greet him, they embraced and Jackson started setting the table places.
“You are early today,” said Mary.
“Can’t deliver things if the depot isn’t open” replied Jackson.
Mary smiled and took a quick taste of the stew, “it’s good.” She said with a smile and dished out three portions into the bowls she had laid ready. “Have you got them?” she asked nervously.
Jackson nodded and produced a brown paper bag from under his jacket and handed it to Mary. She opened it and emptied the contents onto the work surface, the back had contained about fifteen mushrooms. She chopped them and added them to the stew and listened. The frigid air of the wood was disturbed again by the sound of heavy marching, she called Hicks in for their meal and they sat down to eat. Mid meal the soldiers came and they looked greedily at the pot. They took helped themselves to plates and gorged on the stew fresh from the pot and marched off, knocking over the woodpiles as they left.
Jackson smiled, “there goes another missing platoon.”
The Haunted Wordsmith’s Elemental Challenge: Frigid