Her fingers reached, feeling for the small box; brushing dust and moving around objects until it was found. As soon as she had it in her hand she slid it open and reached for a match inside. The tiny yellow flame gave her enough time to locate an oil lamp and light the wick before it went out.

She came here sometimes; when life’s demands seemed to pile too high and the weight of the everyday became overwhelming. She looked around to make sure the line cabin had not been ransacked by some animal looking for a scrap of food or shelter from a storm. All was intact, just as she had left it, ready for her return. Because she knew she would return.

She lit the fire that was already laid in the small stove, outside her horse was getting impatient. She returned to him and unloaded the supplies she had brought up with her; some food, clothes, lamp oil, paper, pencils and a couple of books. She could travel light when she had to. Once he was bedded down with some hay and fresh water, she could start to relax.