An Island Between Two Shores by Graham Wilson

Author:Graham Wilson [Wilson, Graham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Action & Adventure, Science & Math, Biological Sciences, Animals, Dogs & Wolves
ISBN: 9780978036768
Google: PV7jnQEACAAJ
Amazon: B008MC3EN8
Goodreads: 15768130
Publisher: Friday 501 Media Ltd.
Published: 2010-12-15T06:00:00+00:00

5

After so many days stranded on the island, Liana had no doubts: her days were numbered. Her weakness grew as the snow deepened. It concerned her that she no longer felt hungry, only cold. She slipped in and out of dreams all day and night as she lay curled in a ball trying to huddle any warmth that might remain. This morning she opened her eyes to another day of cold and quiet. She felt listless, bored, and alone. She peered above the stone wall in front of her sheltering log at the gloom. The snow had softened the silhouette of the distant forest. A thick drift also covered the ice shelf and the open river had narrowed to a ten-foot gap. The growth of the ice bridge from the shore to the island, once so crucial to her day and her very survival, now left her feeling indifferent. Thinking about the ice made her tired and impatient; she preferred to dream of her loving parents and Henry.

“How many days have passed since Henry died?” wondered Liana. She remembered him chopping wood the morning she left to go hunting. He stopped chopping only long enough to wish her good luck. It was awkward, since they both knew Henry’s hunting days were behind him because his vision was so poor. She could hear the rhythmic crashing of the axe against the frozen wood as she climbed the trail to the plain.

Mornings were now the hardest part of the day. Shivering all night left Liana exhausted as she waited an eternity for the sun to clear the ridge. The dense presence of the cold settled into the valley and slowed everything. She felt coldest for the first hour after sunrise and was always disappointed by the weakness of the morning sun. The first few days on the island Liana had dreaded the dusk, since it brought the biting cold and oppressive dark, but now the futility of the new day bothered her most.

Liana tried to conserve as much of her core heat as she could. She lay on her side and curled her legs to her chest and tucked her hands under her arms. She wished she had some evergreen boughs to make a mattress, which would insulate her from the ground. The agony of spending so much time under the log and the pale chill of the winter was overwhelming. Aside from lying flat, the sleeping positions were basically the same and she only moved when her legs, neck, or back cramped and stabbed with pain. Liana assumed that there was no position she would find comfortable and accepted cramps as unavoidable. Even Liana’s skin was dry and sore. Most of the time the sharpness of her discomfort awakened her from deep sleep and proved that she was still alive.

As winter deepened, the days grew only slightly less biting than the night. The mountains shielded the valley and allowed the night temperature to drop dramatically with each clear, still night. Without clouds to hold the sun’s warmth, the thin night air plummeted into an arctic chill.

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