Food began disappearing from homes.
Flour ran low.
Meat spoiled.
Vegetables frozen in the fields were impossible to dig out.
The general store emptied within weeks.
And slowly, the laughter stopped.
One evening, a man climbed the ridge toward Martha’s cabin.
Then another.
Then a woman with two children.
They didn’t laugh anymore.
They knocked quietly on her wooden door.
When Martha opened it, the cold wind blew snow across the floor.
The people stood there silently.
Ashamed.
Hungry.
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