Punishment aka What Is Mine

FORTY-SIX

A man crouched by a cabin wall. He was well dressed for the time of year, but he was still cold. His teeth were chattering and he tried to pull his jacket tighter around him. He had no idea where he was. The trees stood thick around the opening in front of the small, decrepit building. He could easily break in. The cabin might not even be locked. A thin strip of pink light was expanding on the horizon to the east. He had to find somewhere to hide. Cabins were not a particularly good idea. People could turn up at any time. But this one looked derelict. It smelled of old tar and outhouses.

The man tried to get up. It was as if his legs wouldn’t carry him. He staggered and realized that he had to have something to eat soon.

“Eat,” he mumbled. “Eat.”

The door was a joke. Only some loosely nailed boards that were swinging on the hinges. He stumbled in.

It was dark, even darker than outside. Someone had nailed shutters to the windows. The man groped his way along the wall. His hand came to a cupboard. Luckily he had a lighter. He had finished his cigarettes ages ago. He felt a painful gnawing under his breastbone. Cigarettes and food. He needed cigarettes and food, but had no idea how he was going to get them. He managed to open the cupboard by the light of his lighter flame. It was empty. The next one was empty too. Only cobwebs and an old portable radio.

The cabin had one large room. There was a kind of pot on the table. A big ashtray. There were four stubs in the ashtray. With shaking fingers he picked one of them up. The tobacco was so dry that it fell out of the paper. He carefully stuffed the strands of tobacco back in. It took a while. He had to make sure the top was open. Then he lit the cigarette and tilted back his head. After smoking four stubs, he was no longer hungry. Instead he felt slightly sick. It was better. He crawled under the table and fell asleep.