Shelter - Freewrite Tuesday September 15, 2026

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Gotta cast a big net Daniel thought to himself. Every step ached, every breath a painful scratch, every movement of the pants chaffing his upper legs. He turned down what seemed like the zillionth foot path he’d seen that day. He knew the hut had to be somewhere around here.. he had been heading directly towards it when his phone died.

How he ended up in this situation was a mystery to even himself. He had come so prepared; or so he had thought.. he never had done much more than a weekend backpacking excursion on a popular trail. The past few days had humbled him greatly.

Just as he was doubting himself further, thinking god damnit, Anna was right. I’m gonna die out here, a faint outline appeared in the trees ahead. No, it didn’t look like any sort of “historic warming but”, but it sure didn’t look like anything nature built. As he got a little closer, to his great relief, he realized he was looking at an old log cabin.. one of those cute ones with the patchy stone fireplace you see on a postcard, smoke billowing out the top.

He clambered on the door and tried to yell; but all that came out was a half witted rasp. He swung the iron door knocker a second time with what felt like the last of his energy

”Hold ON! I’m coming!” a woman’s voice cried out. Thank Christ

A few minutes later, or hours, or seconds.. he really couldn’t tell anymore.. the door swung open to reveal a sweet-looking old lady in a dirty night gown, pushing her glasses up the brim of her nose. “Who in the heavens…” her voice trailed off when she looked up to see Daniel.

“Oh DEAR”, the woman exclaimed. ”Come, come in.. oh deary lord, oh heavens.” She made a feeble attempt to help Daniel along. “MANGO!” she shouted, inexplicably. But Daniel was in no shape to question the woman’s sanity.

She helped him to the couch and fetched him a glass of water. After a few minutes, Daniel could think again.

“What’s your name dear?”

“Marcus”. He lied. He didn’t know why. He was starting to feel uneasy about the whole thing. Who the hell lived out here? There were no houses on the map.

”Oh sweet biscuits, a visitor!” The woman seemed not to acknowledge the clearly ragged state he was in; treating him more like a new friend at the church potluck. ”And on Mango’s birthday!”

“Im sorry..” Daniel cough-sipped his glass of water. His voice was starting to come back to him. “Mango?”

“Oh! Thats my husband. His names not Mango of course..” she stopped stirring the pot on the stove and looked up, as if in deep thought, and then, without warning, cackled. “Wouldn’t that be a laugh! Mango! As a man’s government name!” She returned to stirring the pot. “No, no.. but he will be delighted to have you for dinner. You must be starved”

“I could eat”, a faint smile.. a weak attempt at a sense of humor. The woman seemed not to notice. “What’s in the pot?”

“Oh you know, this and that. Things from the garden, some bone stock.. the like. It’s just the side for the main course.” She giggled. “Of course, we weren’t prepared for such a succulent main course, but.. well, god provides”

Daniel didn’t need to ask the question. As soon as he was about to air his concerns; maybe he just misunderstood, after all, a frightenly skinny, stringy haired man appeared around his field of vision. He smiled as he raised a butcher knife from his side. “Oh honey, you shouldn’t have” were the last comprehensible words Daniel heard.