They were finally at the cabin they would call home after a harrowing journey. The wind had torn the cover on the wagon to shreds. They felt torn to shreds by the hardships of their perilous trip.
They walked into their new home. A cabin where she was sure the wind would blow through the cracks between the logs. She could envision their rag rugs on the floor and the colorful flour sacks sitting with food around the kitchen. The cabin had potential.
There was a knock at the door. She looked out the window and there stood the Sheriff.
100 words
Thanks to Friday Fictioneers for the challenge and to Alicia Jamtaas for the photo prompt.
The Write Scribe 
I wonder what he is there for? You have me waiting for what comes next. Great subtle tension in this.
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That’s not often a good sign.
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