Page 3 of His Wood Her Fire

Mainly, I took care of social media posts, scheduling in person events, press releases, and things of that nature.I was good at my job, and I loved that I was able to do it for select New Jersey artists and photographers.

In fact, I’d just sealed the deal for a sweet gallery showing for this mystery photographer’s work.He went by the initials B.D.only, but he never spoke to me directly and refused to answer my correspondence.

Everything went through an agent who assured me the Christmas Eve gig I’d booked for him at a prestigious gallery in historic Morristown was just what the doctor ordered.

With that done, I was pretty much freed up for the next few weeks.

Perfect for a couple of weeks' vacay.

I dismissed Andy with a nod.No longer paying attention as I found myself distracted by the incredible photos on my screen.

They were amazing,

Stunning.

Art as opposed to something hastily taken for commercial purposes.I sighed as I leaned closer to the monitor to take in the details, approving of the quality lighting and expertise it took to shoot such scenes.

Real estate photography was highly competitive, but they all tended to have the same look.Like they were selling you something.

Whoever took these pictures didn’t seem to care about that.It was as if the person had a true love for the place.

I could almost smell the piney scent of the woods, hear the crackle of the fireplace, and taste the steaming mug of coffee that was featured in one of the indoor photos.

I could go there.

Spend two weeks by myself with all that glorious landscape surrounding me.

I could forget about all the invitations plaguing me, all the couples so happy and in love, and maybe find solace in the very real possibility I will be alone for the rest of my life.

A shiver ran through me, and I bit back the sob that threatened to escape my lips.

There is no shame in being alone, Gloria.

I told myself.But one scolding wasn’t enough.It was past time I made peace with it.

I continued to peruse the images and as the seconds ticked by, I felt like the cabin itself was calling to me.

A quiet invitation I couldn’t ignore.

I found myself getting lost in each image, one after another.There were several, and being in New Jersey, I could see the photographer had taken special care to capture the landscape through the seasons.

Spring, summer, and fall were all there, each shot vibrant in its own way, but it was when I got to winter that something just clicked.

I sighed just thinking about it.Winter had always been my favorite season.

Staring at the snow-covered landscape around the cabin made me long to see it in person.

I wondered if there was snow there yet and hoped there was.Something about it seemed to soften all the sharp edges of the world.

The bare trees stood like sentinels, their branches heavy with frost.The cabin, rustic yet elegant, nestled among the dense woods in a way that made it look almost timeless—like it had always belonged there.

The warm glow of light from within the windows contrasted beautifully with the crisp blue sky above it.A stream of smoke curled lazily from the chimney, only adding to the sense of peace I found in just looking at it.

Imagine if you were there in real life?How would you feel then, Gloria?

Maybe it was the stillness of the images, or the way the wood of the cabin seemed to embrace the cold without being consumed by it—that made me feel an almost magnetic pull.

It wasn’t just the aesthetic of the place, though.It was the sense of home,of comfort, of stepping into a place where time slowed down that appealed to me.