“Have a seat,” the woman says.
She boots some slightly torn mesh chairs our way and waits for us to sit. The house appears rickety with chipping paint, a cracked ceiling, and dull lighting. Some of the concrete walls soaked up moisture from the snow, and half the insulation seems to be cut off.
“It’s freezing,” Joel murmurs, rubbing his shoulders.
The woman hangs the lantern on a metal hook from the ceiling which illuminates more of the house. She starts a small fire in the fireplace. The main room is small and floored by creaking wooden planks. It contains an even tinier kitchen where a portable stove, sink, and a couple cabinets ajar with broken knobs are situated. Another room, door closed, is next to the kitchen. The setup seems fit for one or two people to live in.
“Not a homey vi
