"How lucky I am..."

"How lucky I am..." thought Claire as she was gazing into the subdued yellow and orange flames of the fire, a blanket over her legs and her face beaming.

To the left of the fireplace, a single bed hugged one corner of the room. To the right, a round table surrounded by two chairs, below a crusty window that was hiding behind voile curtains.

If Claire were to stand up and turn around, she would be facing an old-fashioned stove that was flanked between white-painted shelves above a deep wide sink to the right, and a fridge that left just enough space for the only door to the cabin to open wide, to the left.

She was lucky.

Upon reflection, Claire had to admit that she had been pretty lucky all her life: got a husband - tick; then a dog - tick; shortly after came a beautiful healthy daughter - tick; and a son - tick; and then the house of their dreams...

She had been lucky, indeed.

Snapping out of her rêverie, Claire jumped out of the worn velvety armchair to collect some more wood for the fire. The open door framed a beautiful crisp white - yet desolate and hostile - landscape. Having no Internet Connection, Claire could only guess that it was still morning. A nice, calm, peaceful morning. Better than the one three days ago when the unexpected snowstorm had taken Claire and Andrew by surprise.

Out of habit, Claire took her phone out to check for messages but could only see a miserable red line indicating the alarmingly low battery level of her only means of communication. Desperation. Claire sincerely hoped that Andrew had made it back to their home safely.

Fighting back her tears, she headed out, determined to clear the meter-deep snow that separated her from the forest in front of her. "Andrew would have loved this job", she thought half meaning it, half joking. A strong adventurous man like him would have done anything to keep his wife happy. Besides, he did enjoy pushing himself to the limit. She now recollected that this is why she was now on her own in the middle of nowhere. "He is safe. He must be safe", she reassured herself. For guilt was neither a survivor's best friend nor a welcoming feeling in dangerous territory, Claire tried to pull herself back together; she chose to think of the good times.

Clearing, cleaning and cooking had never been on her daily to-do list. She had been lucky. She would have enjoyed those had they not been blessed with luck. Andrew's dream job got advertised a week before graduating; the house that they had always wanted went onto the market the year that Andrew got his promotion; and to top it up, Andrew was a family man dedicated to making them discover the world. This last thought brought Claire back to reality. This is why she was here, stranded somewhere in the Canadian mountains around Banff.

On survival mode, she was now hunting for branches to keep the fire alive. The first night had nearly killled her as she lay shivering in bed with gusts of wind beating relentlessly against the window.

The second night had been much easier; placing the blanket and the curtains on top of her had created more heat, hence a less restless sleep.

She had also managed to make drinkable water out of melting snow in front of the fire, for the stove was out of action. No stove. No fridge. No light. No electricity.

Eating, however, was a problem. The rusty axe had done the trick at opening some abandoned tins left on the shelves but the food was not longer edible. And hunting had never been one of Claire's strong points. Today would be her third day without food...

After gathering sufficient fuel for the fire, Claire rushed back inside. She attended to the few remaining red ashes to resurrect the much-needed heat. While doing this, a piece of linen under her bed caught her attention. This piece of linen was attached to something hard on the other side of the springs. Instinctively, Claire lifted the mattress to find a battered journal.

She picked it up, settled on the armchair to get some light, placed it on her lap, and opened it.

"Day 5 in the cabin.

I can't believe that it has taken me 5 days to start a journal.

Days 1 to 4 were pretty boring. I spent most of my time outside trying to catch a plane or helicopter's attention by placing some bright clothes that I found in a box underneath the bed onto the snow. But to no avail.

But today Day 5, I made a discovery.

Tucked into the side of the armchair, I found a little book. Inside it, a half chewed up pencil. This gave me such a relief. I cried with gratitude.

With no prospects of being rescued soon and having used up all the food I had on me before leaving the house, I now have the chance to leave a note. This note is for you... It is called

"I will miss you"

Do you remember the laughs we used to have, and the late nights we spent talking, giggling, crying...? We were young and free and full of ideals. Life was good.

And the longing to see each other again was so strong that I would spend hours thinking of you, of how far you were for us to be reunited. And that feeling of anticipation was just out of this world. Do you remember?

And the fights we had, for a yes or a no. And the hugs that followed that were just so satisfying. Can you feel those?

Because I can. I can remember your eyes and your smile, and your voice. I can remember the way you looked at me, loved me and cared for me. For I will miss you. Always.

Claire placed the book on her lap, took the pencil in her hand, and started to write...