bread。　With　the　sandwich　plate　in　one　hand　and　a　coffee　mug　in　the

other；　she　retraced　her　steps；　flipping　the　light　off　with　a　nudge　of

the　elbow。

Her　hunger　surprised　her。　Unusual　for　her；　she　finished　the　sandwich。

Revived；　she　sat　back　in　the　chair；　the　mug　warming　her　hands　as　the

fire　warmed　her　feet；　and　it　suddenly　struck　her　that　she　was　beginning

to　feel。　It　had　been　months　since　she　had　smelled　coffee　brewing　or　felt

the　barefoot　plushness　of　a　carpet。　But　the　coffee　did　smell　good。　Same

with　the　burning　logs　and　the　pines　outside；　and　her　feet　did　feel；

albeit　smooth　sanded　oak　planks　rather　than　the　thick　carpeting　of　home。

Pushing　the　glasses　up　on　her　nose；　she　stared　at　the　biography；　but　it

wasn't　a　biography　kind　of　night。　Jumping　up；　she　returned　to　her　room

for　a　replacement。　Mystery　or　romance…the　choice　was　easy。　A　romance

might　appeal　to　her　later　in　the　week；　when　she　was　feeling　stronger。

She　took　the　mystery　and　set　off。

The　addition　of　several　logs　brightened　the　blaze　in　the　hearth。　Edging

her　chair　closer；　she　read　from　its　light；　and　the　book　drew　her　in。

Within　a　chapter；　she　was　the　heroine。　She　was　only　marginally　aware

that　the　rain　was　ing　harder；　beating　with　increased　force　against

rooftop；　windowpane；　and　clapboard。　It　was　a　fitting　backdrop　for　the

story　of　a　young　woman　stranded　in　the　deep　w