The Cabin

Dusk, quietly the darkness creeps in.  Fog outside.  An abandoned road all but reclaimed by wilderness old.  Inside, time turns the shadows dancing flames to embers crackling cold.  It is late.  A knock at the door.  Cold.  Hairs standing on edge.  Who is there?  A knock on the door.  Distant, a woman’s voice beckons come out.  Who is there?  Oh, please come out.  The temperature drops: the embers die out.  Two knocks on the door.  The voice disembodied and old beckons you must come out.