Flicker
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Lane hadn't lived in the town for very long, but she had often driven past the area on nights when she needed an escape. She had never so much witnessed any signs of life within those woods, but she also had never seen the cabin. Tonight, instead of passing by, she brought her old Volvo to a halt. It rattled in complaint before abiding and coming to a full stop in a turn off near what used to be a driveway, now overgrown with weeds. The radio crackled out of reception and she shut it off, appreciative of the silence. Fog danced off her headlights. She got out of the car, lighting a cigarette and leaned against the door, closing her eyes and taking a drag. Her head fell back against the hood and she let her body relax. Was this the only place she could find privacy? A semblence of sanity?