She walked what seemed like two hundred miles, looking for a clear path to a shelter. It was raining and there was no clearing that made sense and no cover to rest. The rain began to fall and the wind blew cold biting wind against her face. She ran into the dark rainy night, twisting her ankle on branches and rocks, cutting her hands, and getting dirt in her mouth, eyes and hair. She stumbled upon a wood cabin. She banged on the door and was shivering. She didn’t know if anyone would come to the door, but finally with all her might the door unlocked. She blanked out. When she awoke, soup was on the stove and there was a fire going. She was awake laying on a couch with her feet up. She looked out the back window, realizing that storm was behind her. She stood up on her own two feet and looked out the front window of the cabin, the sun was shining with the promise of a new day. Calligraphy came purring at her feet. As her cat jumped up into the window sill, she realized where she was, the cabin was hers, and she was home.