#20: Empty

It wasn't long after the snow that they started to see blue in the sky again. Strapping on their shoes, the two took a walk down through the trees on the edge of the hill.

The incline was more than they had remembered from the last time the weather was right for snow shoeing. Out of breath, they stopped in the trees and sat on a stump where they often sat. The murky sunlight filtered through branches and needles. There wasn't as much snow under the canopy.

After they gained their breath, Tom spoke first. "I think this is the last time we'll come here," he said. "Year after year, like there's no other place in the world."

Helen nodded. "Someplace warmer next year. Maybe just stay home."

Sunlight picked up, now, raining through the trees, dropping warmed snow around them.

Tom put his arm around Helen. "It's been fifteen years, you know?"

She nodded.

"I still miss him so much," he said, tears in his eyes. "And sometimes I feel like we were running away when we left here. Running away from him."

She leaned in heavy against his chest. "Maybe it's not the only place in the world," Helen said at last. "But maybe we are stuck here."

The snow would pick up tomorrow. Wood would burn in the stove. Besides Helen and Tom, the house would stand empty.

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