Sixteen-year-old Daniel pulled his wool coat tighter as he trekked up the mountain, his worn leather boots sinking into the deep snow. He carried a long-barreled musket, and his game bag fluttered in the wind.
To his surprise, the night sky had turned pale. Shelter. I must make it before the storm.
He grabbed his tricorn hat as the howling wind thrust the first snowfall at him. The flakes beat his face like thousands of arrows and numbed his fingers. Soon a wall of white encircled him and the incline steepened.
But am I on the path?
You just read the opening scene of my new short story, Snowstorm. Here’s what it’s about:
Time is running out for two brothers trapped in a blizzard in 1777. Sheltered by an abandoned cabin with no food, they struggle to overcome their fears and fight to survive. Restrained by a mangled leg, the older brother tries to prod the younger to action, but he’s locked in despair. How will they escape before it’s too late? Snowstorm is a story of faith tried by snow. (21pages)
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