the snow melts (2)

She knows that. Winter cannot last forever, no matter how much she’d like to preserve its silence. She squints up at the gray sky, shielding her eyes with one gloved hand. The sun is hidden, but its warmth is unmistakable.

She can feel it in the way the snow gives under her feet, in the rivulets of water that snake through the cracks in the ice, pooling at the base of tree trunks. The forest is waking up. Behind her, the cabin door creaks open. She doesn’t turn around immediately.

Instead, she lets the sound hang in the air, blending with the drip-drip-drip of melting snow and the faint rustle of wind through the trees. “You’re up early,” a voice says, and she finally turns to see Noah stepping onto the porch.