The storm was brutal and far greater than we had feared. We are trapped, unable to gather supplies or journey to the neighboring villages. Our stocks run low and already we have begun to see a glimpse of the devastation that awaits our small colony. The children are wan; mothers are unable to stifle their cries of hunger.So great is the snowfall that we have lost sight of our livestock, even though they are some small rods away from our homes. Those animals who manage to survive the snow will surely fall to the roving wolves whose nightly wailing prevents us our sleep.
We cannot heat our small abodes, as the firewood is buried so deeply that we cannot see it, and venturing to the woods would leave us lost and mean certain death. I fear this to be the end of our colony and its faithful citizens. We place our hope in Gold Almighty, but catch ourselves questioning how he could visit such a calamity upon His own.
We shall have naught but prayer for our Supper again tonight. May this record survive to inform those who shall come after us, and may God have mercy on our souls.
3 comments:
Is it THAT bad? Just put on your new boots and haul your butt across the street to Fareway for heaven's sake.
No, actually it was far milder than had been predicted. So I thought, between the pre-storm panic and Suzie's latest, this was the only proper response.
Don't let that stop you from supporting the relief effort down here. Send beer! We're very low on beer.
Are you sure you didn't write for a Little House book at some point in your life? LOL
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