Arthur pen drawing of hidden animals decided who kept the lake cabin

The lemon oil did not quite cover the scent of damp earth coming up from the cellar. I rubbed the soft flannel cloth over the pine knots, tracing the dark circles Arthur had sanded smooth thirty years ago.

Douglas stood by the kitchen window, his shadow long and thin across the linoleum. He did not look at the lake, but kept his eyes on his own fingernails.continue reading …