Doors To Mirrors (Excerpt 173) Drifts
Viktor quickly changes into his clothes and heads to the back door. Upon opening it, he is astonished at the depth of the heavy wet snow. The railing around the wooden deck is barely visible due to the drifts that built up there. Stepping back, he looks behind the door.
“Ha, perfect!” He says to himself as he grabs hold of the snow shovel propped in the corner.
He takes a deep scoop of the snow at the back door and tosses it high over to his left. Repeating the process for quite some time, he finally has a clear path from the cottage to the neatly stacked woodpile. The further he gets from the drifts of snow at the back of the cottage and deck, the lower the snow level becomes.
“I hope the sun starts working on this stuff. I only have a few more days before I have to be back at work.” He mumbles as he takes a break to look out at the woods. “Wow.” He whispers. “It is really beautiful here.”
Each branch of every tree and the broad flocks of the evergreens are hanging heavy by the dense snow cover. The sky is still a pale color but more blue than the pink that drifted in with the sunrise. After standing still in the hushed silence of white drifts, Viktor turns and decides he better take the shovel back to the door before he gathers logs of wood in his arms. After all, he will need to clear a path out the front door of the little dwelling as well. But then again, maybe not, who would possibly come to visit in this thick layer of frozen landscape? Each step Viktor takes makes a crunching sound under his shoes. Now that he is on the back deck, he reaches for the doorknob.
“Oh you startled me! I was just about to go check on you.” Nadja says with a smile as she pulls the door open. “Here, let me have the shovel and I’ll grab my coat to help you with the wood.”
“Oh no you don’t. You can take the shovel inside but I can handle bringing in the wood.” Viktor says without waiting for her to respond. “Man the door for me, I’m going to have my hands full.”
Once he is back at the large stack of wood, he begins gathering various split logs in his arms. He loads up so many that they nearly hide his view making it rather hard to walk in a straight line. Slowly he heads to the back door but it is not yet open, so he begins to reach for the handle.
“Well this is awkward.” He mumbles as he tries to open the back door without dropping the stack of wood in his arms.
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