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Weekly Contest #227
On the last day of Christmas, a cold blizzard plundered the warmth from within the air. A cabin in the woods stood alone, blinded and deafened in the twirling white limbo; it was a faded vestige of autumn. Piles of soggy fallen leaves still lay at its feet. Sticks of whitened charcoal cackle within the heath. A lone silhouette stood sipping beer at a broken window, which whistled a song of wind and snow through its cracks. The man was a lumberjack, a worn-down fellow with a big frame and hefty mane around the neck. This was his abode.&n...
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