Snowed In

Snowed In

We appear to be snowed in.
Not surprising, as our little rented cottage is on the edge of Rannoch Moor.
Picturesque, but remote.
We have hot chocolate and Glenmorangie, and toasted scones, her favourite taste of Scotland.
Everything is perfect.
Then she mentions a name.
And an argument explodes.
Normally I’d leave now, give her time to calm down, but here, that’s not possible.
I try to make peace, to apologise, even though she started it, and continues to escalate it, as always.
This is why I avoid confrontation, I struggle to control my temper.
So my hands are on her throat, squeezing...
I carry her out into the blizzard, stumble across the white broken ground until I can walk no further.
I lie down beside her, holding her as the tears freeze on my face.
We’ll be together forever.
Or until the spring thaw, at least.