¬Rosie Six Months Later. Resting my hand against the force of the wind, I battle through thick ploughs of snow, a few logs of cut wood tucked under my arms. Time and I have been staying at a cabin of his in a nearby territory for the past few weeks, enjoying a change of environment, even if it means unsavoury weather at the best of times. Right now a blizzard is rolling in, so while Time makes dinner inside, I’ve dashed outside to get enough wood to get us through the night. As the sun sets, I cross what would be our backyard that is buried beneath a thick layer of fluffy white snow, the ice melting into my pants as I struggle back. Even as the wind picks up, I take a moment to admire the sun setting over the tops of the distant mountains, staining the white canvas with hues of tangerine and violet. Moving here was important for us, I believe. We needed time away from people, from the life we were living. Here, we have been able to focus purely on us. Suddenly my leg gives out b