Winter
by Ellen
Gray clouds hung above the off-white two-story cottage. The January snow had long since covered the stony wall that separated the house from the world. The skeletons of an Oak and a Japanese maple watched and waited as they had for half a century. Ice filled the birdbath, allowing only the carved decorations to appear.
The large wooden door swung open and Mrs. Hutchinson stepped out, bundled up in her fur coat, hat, and woolen mittens. As she walked across the porch, it creaked beneath her weight. Although the house was freshly painted, the timbers within were rotten. Her feet crushed the blood-red carpet of fallen maple leaves, sinking deep into the trackless snow.
Upon reaching the mailbox, Mrs. Hutchinson withdrew a stack of mail. She stuffed it under her arm and hurried back to the warmth of her house. "Wow!" she shouted to her husband. "The wind is so cold out there! It�s enough to cut through you like..." She stopped, suddenly remembering that her husband had left on a business trip earlier that morning. In their 30 years of marriage, only once had they been apart for more than an hour, and she was unaccustomed to an empty house.
Mrs. Hutchinson sank into the office chair with her back to a large window overlooking the creek. Picking up the mail, she leafed through it. A Sears catalog; a sweepstakes entry form; an electric bill; a confirmation letter regarding her new life insurance policy; and the latest issue of Good Housekeeping. "Well, at least I�ll have something good to read tonight," she thought.
It was then that she noticed it.
A letter from her husband. She eagerly tore the envelope and removed a single sheet of paper. After she unfolded it, she read:
Hey Honey! I dropped this in the mailbox before I left because I knew you would miss me. I should be in Montreal before sunset. A kind family will be housing me there. That will be nice! I remember on that last business trip I took alone, I had to stay in a stingy hotel. I remember that morning I left. As I recall, it wasn�t too pretty.
Mrs. Hutchinson adjusted the lamp as a shadow crossed the sun.
The disagreement, then the argument, then the fight... I wanted to do it then, 20 years ago, but I couldn�t.
I�m ready now.
The hair on her neck raised as she felt the press of cold steel.