I Write In 2018

The Cabin

We had been walking for hours when we found the cabin. A simple shelter, but it had a wood stove and dry wood. I got the fire started, and filled a pot with snow. Clean water. We would need that to drink and to get Frank's wound cleaned out and bandaged.

He mumbled something incoherent and I worked faster knowing time was of the essence. We were dealing with shock and hypothermia. My own hands were stiff with the cold. I rubbed them together.

"You aren't making any sense." I told Frank when he jabbered.

Searching the cabin I found some old dry clothes. I changed into them. After laying out my own clothing to dry, I helped Frank strip out of his wet gear and into something dry.

I pressed a mug of warmed water to his lips. "Drink Frank. This will warm you up. I’m going to take a look at that wound."

He mumbled and groaned, but he complied.

The wound was not as bad as I feared. The frigid cold and the battering snow had seemed to help cauterize it. His jeans had protected him a little, but not enough.

I poured part of the water into a kettle, then used the rest to help clean his wound. We had been lucky that the bear trap had been old. Any newer and I'm sure Frank would have lost part of his leg. I worried about infection getting into the wound.

As I worked I prayed that help would find us. Being lost out here in the wilds was never good. Being hurt made it worse, but as I curled myself around Frank's big body to keep us warm I prayed morning would bring help.

Words = 288.

Daily Flash Fiction: ▼

Prompt for 9/15
Write a story that includes the line: “You aren’t making any sense”.

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