Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Mine to do what I loved most, which was bring the games in my head to life. Seeing the characters taking shape on the screen and imagining that there’d be at least one kid out in the world who’d be able to escape their ugly realities in a world I’d created was almost like a drug to me, and only when my body was too exhausted to function did I make my way to my empty, sterile penthouse. But the city around me never slept. It was never too quiet. And if sleep eluded me, the luxury of a Wi-Fi connection was all I’d ever needed since there were always emails that needed answering and problems that needed solving. Not to mention all the work I did to help my brothers find the kids the rest of the world had given up on…
Thoughts of my brothers had me pulling in a deep breath as I tried to calm my mind. The internet wouldn’t be around to save me from my own thoughts tonight or for as long as it took for me to get my shit together. I’d purposefully picked a place with no internet because I needed to stay off the grid.
I sighed and turned over onto my stomach in the hopes that would somehow magically trigger my brain to shut down. But my busy brain refused to let go of the fact that, like so many times in my life, my body was failing me. Only this time, there would be no coming back from it. It didn't matter how long I spent in isolation trying to figure out the next steps. The fact was that there were no next steps. I'd known for months that the day was coming when I’d open my eyes and see nothing but darkness. I'd had time to acknowledge it, accept it, and adjust to it, but instead I’d chosen the easier route of denial.
I’d come to this cabin to find a way to come to terms with what my future held, but as I lay there in the darkness, I had to face the bitter truth.
I had no future.
At least not one worth living, anyway.
Chapter Two
Gideon
Between Brewer's incessant whining and burning a third batch of eggs, my normally quiet morning was already shot before the clock even struck seven. None of that was my dog's fault, of course, so I gave him a quick pat and said, "I'll catch up to you," before opening the door for him. The husky mix rushed out the door and raced into the woods. I sighed as I noted the few inches of fresh snow on the ground. It wasn’t uncommon for us to get some accumulation throughout the month of May but after a long winter, I was ready for warmer weather. For today, however, I’d have to shift my plans and deal with the white stuff.
I shut the door and went back to the stove to get rid of the burned eggs. I grabbed a banana from the fruit basket and quickly ate it as I pulled on my heavy work boots. My body protested as I shrugged on my heavy coat. My tired limbs were practically ordering me to get back into my warm bed for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for one single reason.
And it was the same reason that had kept me tossing and turning all night long.
The asshole of a new tenant occupying cabin number three.
Even now, my blood started to boil as I considered how the man had so easily dismissed me. His voice had dripped with condescension and he hadn’t even been bothered to look my way as he’d pretty much ordered me to leave and not return.
It was no skin off my nose. I’d get paid either way. If some uptight Richie Rich type wanted to get his hands dirty during his “rustic” vacation, that was fine by me.
I actually laughed out loud. Richie Rich and people like him had no clue what living rustically meant. The cabins that Harvey Parnell had built outside the small town of Fisher Cove were mini mansions compared to the small houses and cabins most residents, including me, lived in. When Harvey had announced he was building the cabins, people had been equally confused and curious. While Maine’s north woods offered many tourist opportunities, Fisher Cove itself had never been any kind of tourist destination simply because it’d been too damn hard to get to. Not to mention how unpredictable the weather was and the fact that the seasons included early winter, winter, late winter and, as the locals called it, “quick-it-stopped-snowing-so-now’s-our-chance-to-get-the-hell-out-of-here.”
Harvey Parnell wasn’t a foolish man, though, and he’d made himself a pretty penny on the cabins. The man actually had waiting lists for them. People were clearly eager to disconnect from the real world, and while there was usually some sort of culture shock when they learned no internet really meant no internet, by the time they left they were already planning their next visit and calling Harvey to get on the waiting list.