The moon shown down on the snow, like a beacon guiding the lost. The fierce wind added to the creaks in the cabin and it seeped through open slivers on the wooden window sash. Thomas sat in front of his fireplace. He loved watching the sparks fly as the fire crackled with life. His cabin was a short drive to the nearest town; but far enough away that he rarely had any solicitors. He picked up the picture of his daughter from the table beside him. He felt as though he were stranded in time, as if one moment was his reality for the rest of his life. Thomas didn’t know how to let go. His world was a bunch of if-onlys that swirled around him as he quietly went through his precious memories.
From the deepest part of him came a groan. Tonight the feelings of loss were strong, he felt them closing in around his heart. It hurt to envision her angelic face, and the way her smile brought life to her green eyes. The photograph in his hands had started to crack from years of handling. In the picture, she had just blown out the candles from her eighth birthday party. She had turned to look up at him when he snapped the picture. It captured Anne so perfectly and it was the only picture he had been able to look at since she died almost a year ago. He remembered that birthday so well. He had given Anne her mother’s cross necklace. It had been in their family for years and always passed down to the eldest daughter. Anne’s mother had died of cancer soon after Anne was born. Later, she told him that giving birth to Anne was one of her proudest moments. He closed his eyes and fell into a little daydream.
A small noise outside the cabin startled Thomas awake. He sat there teetering between his daydream and reality. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead. In the silence of the cabin he was convinced it was either an animal or remnants of his dreamworld. When his heart returned to a normal rhythm, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink of water.
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