Second place winner of the Winter
Nanofiction Contest, written
by ACynicalXarizian

Refuge in a Cabin

The fire in the chimney fills the entire room with warmth. Everyone grabs one of the gingerbread men that are being passed around. We all sit around watching old vintage movies as it snows outside, finding them funnier for how cheesy they are, rather than genuinely enjoying them.

For a moment, it feels like we aren't all refugees fleeing our country. Like most of us have any actual family left. Like we aren't all still wearing mittens indoors, in case they tell us that we have to run because soldiers are approaching the cabin.

It feels like we're safe.