Chapter 9: Puzzles and SaturdaysNot once during the three years John had lived in the cabin had he been this restless. He couldn’t concentrate on his work, and the walls kept closing in. He hadn’t changed much since he’d moved in, hadn’t painted or bought anything new. It had never bothered him before. When he looked around now, he couldn’t see anything of himself there. Who was he, anyway?
The furniture had already been there, the wallpaper was ancient, and even he, useless as he was, could see the entire building was in need of fixing. He didn’t know what to do. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up his pacing and went outside.
The wood Zachary had cleaved was mounted in a hefty pile, and John set about carrying the logs into the woodshed. When he’d moved in, it had been filled to the bri
