A sea mist had settled in overnight. The early morning battled its way through, turning the mist a pale silver, making it whirl and rise. I went and stoked the embers in the wood stove and fed Sam some of Frankie’s deer offal. While Sam snuffled about in her bowl and I waited for the kettle to boil for a brew, I returned to the window and looked out through the mist at the shack across the road with its drawn curtains, and the car out front, an old blue sedan.
Nothing moved.
The kettle sang and I made my cuppa, taking it with me to my post at the window.
Still nothing.
I stood there, nursing my mouth ulcer, sipping my tea until the cup was drained.
Reluctantly, I peeled myself away and had a wash in the bathroom out the back. When I looked again the car outside the shack was gone. I r
