Howls of Winter

Storm winds slither into the windowsills. Mordecai, my brother's golden retriever, has been howling at the zephyrs since dusk, this old town just got a notch higher to creepy, I internally debate, lighting perhaps the only lantern in the cabin's hallway.

"Suddenly feels like one of those screamer scenes from a slasher movie, eh?" Gab, our cousin from Michigan, announced at the dinner table, lighting perhaps his 20th reefer roll since we arrived this morning.

This whole summer camp cabin in the woods weekend was my dad's idea, he said kids today will never appreciate the countryside since the advent of the web and gadgets. We were in Nazca that time. Nazca, the cradle of ancient alien encounter myths and all my brother had to say was "So much for mythology. The only myth here is a WIFI connection and a clear 3G reception." Sure I gave out a slight chuckle but I wasn't entirely sharing his sentiment. I loved the place, no matter how that Tsoukalos guy (despite his ridiculously f*cked up hair-do) and his literally "out-of-this-world" ancient alien doctrines try to debate its eccentricities. 

A loud thud on the roof broke my thoughts. Everyone practically jumped from their seats, except for Jo who was sleeping on Faye's snuggie on the floor. My ears rang from Val's wailing shriek.

"I think we should check what that was." Really? Super storm raging outside and all I could suggest was...

"There's a torch light behind the cupboard, we'll check it out together." Sid, the oldest in the group, ordered.

"Great! Just great. I picked the perfect day to quit drinking..." In an almost-whisper, my brother swore from behind.

TBC...