White Winters Moon, a Short Love Story - Page 1
Set in the Early 1900's
The quaint inn was all that remained open upon this cold winter Monday - six p.m. in the evening. A chill hung heavy in the air leaving Moriah longing for the warmth of a cozy fire - and a hot meal. Perhaps a bowl of soup. She'd settle for warm broth. But for now, she remained thankful for the three-day old biscuit which had been carefully packed away in her carpetbag.
Having no money to rent a room, Moriah hoped that the innkeeper wouldn't turn her away as all she wanted was a short rest by the warm fireplace that she'd glimpsed through the pristine stained-glass windows. She would have much-preferred a job but the 'Not Hiring Don't Ask' sign in the window rejected any hope of that happening.
Settling into a table beside the fire a woman with long, flaming red hair approached and asked of her needs.
"Would it be too much trouble to request a glass of water?" Moriah asked, hesitantly and quite unsure of herself.
"Yes, of course dear," the woman responded, the hazel eyes kneading up and down Moriah's small frame. Moriah supposed that a thousand questions were soaring through the woman's head, but fortunately she didn't pursue. "I'll bring your water directly," which she did in haste. "My name is Susan. I'm the wife of the innkeeper," she informed as she placed the glass in front of Moriah. "If you decide to stay, please let me know and I'll take care of your needs."
Moriah nodded, thanking her before Susan walked away. Then she discreetly withdrew the biscuit from her carpetbag and pinched ever-so-small bits. The smaller the bits, the longer the biscuit would last, she reminded herself, fighting her ravenous appetite. Three days without food - but she wouldn't think about that as she enjoyed her biscuit by the fireside. When one was poor, they lived moment by moment.
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