The pungent smell of the pines drifted up her nostrils, arousing her from sleep. Through the haze of not-quite-awake-yet, and puzzled by the unfamiliar scent, she prised her heavy eyelids open a slit to get her bearings. An ocean of too-bright white linen assaulted her just-roused senses, at odds with the golden background of bare pine slats that rose as a wall beyond. Her eyelids drifted closed again, weighed down by safer thoughts than what lay beyond.Slowly snapshots of the night before wended their way through the miasma of her half-asleep consciousness to surface jubilant, demanding her attention. An after-work dash up the Interstate as night drew in; a sprint through a convenience store to gather supplies; a bumpy, muscle-abusing ride down a dark forest track, damp branches smacking into her windscreen and scraping their sodden trail down the length of her car; and finally that heady reek of wet pines as she unloaded her life-for-the-next-three-months into the log cabin that was her haven.She inhaled deeply, savouring the aroma as it filled her lungs. No longer wet, but spicey, sun-kissed by the new dawn. If this wasn't pure luxury, then she didn't know what could ever be.
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