The cabin was remote, tucked far behind a town in the mountains, and even farther away than that, beyond a ridge and way back into a canyon. The only road in was a fire road, 8-miles long and behind a locked gate that only a few people had keys for.
There was running water to the cabin once, but now the water came from the creeks, carried by bucket.
The wood stove needed a little attention and that's what I cooked on after cutting the wood.
In the cupboard was a can of Meals for Millions Food. Developed by Mr. Clifton, who'd owned the cafeteria in Los Angeles where my sister worked one summer.
May I stay here forever, please?