Tonight, I let the cabin open my front door and sit inside me. Lying in the cabin in me was the woman who brought me here. The one with the young daughter who looked just like her — both thin, quiet, tow-headed.
The cabin lit a fire. It burned me into the woman.
I knew it wasn’t real, but it was pleasant.
When I woke, the cabin was standing outside me. Waiting. Covered with ashes.