Writing Prompt: Wolves howled in the distance.

Welcome to Friday. The week is almost over and the weekend is set to begin. All we have to do is make it through one more work day. And I for one am eager to get started on it. So wiggle your fingers and select your pen or your keyboard. We are setting the timer and going for fifteen minutes. see you on the other side!

That is really not where I thought I’d end up going with that. I really thought I’d end up in fantasy. Oh well, it could be interesting to figure out the back story.

Friday, May 7th: Wolves howled in the distance.

Wolves howled in the distance.  The sound sent shivers down my spine and made me double check the locks on the door.  I was assured that I would be fine out here but I was having second thoughts. 

I was having second thoughts about a lot of things.

This was just my most recent questioning of my choices.  I studied the lock.  It, like the rest of the cabin was somewhat quaint.  It was deadbolt ish, but it was carved from wood.  It fit with the décor of the cabin.  The stair railings were all carved wood polished to a high gloss. The bedframe was polished wood.  The walls were wood paneled and even the chandelier was carved and polished wood.  As it was also a log cabin, it was wood all the way through. 

While I generally liked the look of wood, this cabin was making me realize that you could have too much of a good thing.  ‘But at least they are consistent with their theme,’ OI thought still looking at the wooden deadbolt contraption.

The wolves howled again in the distance and I wished the designers broke with their theme long enough to include an actual deadbolt.  Could a rampaging wolf get through that?  I didn’t know.  My world typically consisted of wolves of the two legged variety wearing fife thousand dollar suits.  I was pretty sure the wooden deadbolt wouldn’t stop them either. 

Not that any of them were around.  Which was why I was here.  There was a couple who lived at the cabin down the hill.  They managed the place and handed me my keys and map when I checked in.  I then had to drive up the hill by myself to the isolated cabin.  I couldn’t see more than the smoke from their chimney as a somewhat remote sky decoration.  They assured me that at this time of year none of the other cabins were occupied. I was virtually alone on the mountain.

I shook my head and turned away from the door.  I walked back to the couch, the thick woolen socks I was using instead of slippers making no sound on the wooden floorboards. Alone was what I needed.  Quiet was what I needed.  But like the wooden décor, I was beginning to believe there was too much of the alone ness for comfort. 

Still I knew myself.  If there was anyone around I would distract myself with them and not get any work done let alone any self-introspection.  And that was why I was here, work and figuring myself out.  I looked to the papers spread across the table.  Something told me the self-study would take longer and be less fun than the work so I started with the work.  I shook off the uneasiness the wolves raised and leaned forward, picking up the first of the pages.

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