![]() ![]() ![]() To the right of the two bedrooms is the open mouth of a stairwell that spirals down into the basement. Wen has slept in both beds already and has decided she prefers the bottom bunk. Wen’s room has bunk beds, the frame built into the walls. Across from the back slider and to the right of the front door are the two rectangular bedrooms. The showerhead leaks water more than it actually showers. A small sliver of a bathroom with the world’s skinniest shower stall is to the kitchen’s left. A map of the lake and forest, a framed mountain landscape at dusk, and a plaque with hand-carved loons hang haphazardly on the walls along with what look to be antique skis and poles and old baking soda and Moxie advertisements stamped onto sheets of tin, the kind of kitsch one can find at any general store in New Hampshire. Wen has already walked around most of the room, knocking and testing for loose ones. The walls are made of unstained wooden planks. The common area, which is a living room space and kitchen, takes up almost the entirety of the cabin’s interior. She pushes her dads out of the kitchen and toward the locked front door. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |