Cabin Fever - An Erotic Novel

Chapter 2 - Abbie's got legs (FINAL EDIT)

It was a dark and dismal Monday morning. The holidays were turning into nothing more than a pleasant memory, and my body was starting to recover from an epic New Year's Eve induced hangover. January had snuck up and surprised us all, like it did every year, and forced us back into the hamster wheel.

A cold northwestern wind came howling in from the fjord, pushing a roiling mass of clouds. Slate grey, so low you could almost reach up to touch them. More often than not, the snow would fall further inland, up in the forests and mountains of the interior. But now and then the clouds would deposit their load on us city-dwellers.

On the one hand, I welcomed the prospect of snow. Up here, close to the Polar Circle, it was dark all day, except a few hours before and after noon. A layer of snow on the ground would literally lighten up my world.

On the other hand, the warm waters of the Gulf Stream pushing against the coast tended to made any snowfall a temporary affair at best. A few days of pure white, before it turned to rain, then froze over again, leaving everything just as dark, and covered with ice.

It started snowing just as I picked up my coffee and breakfast roll from the deli on the corner. Big, wet flakes that melted the instant they touched my clothes. At first, it was only a few at a time, but soon they were falling thick as thieves. By the time I reached my office building, the world was covered in a white blanket, as was my coat.

If walking to work sounds strange, it's because we're living in different countries, you and me. Where I come from, it's perfectly normal. Then again, we measure things in meters and kilos, are eternally confused about 'am' and 'pm,' and water freezes at zero degrees, would you believe.

I did have a car, two in fact, but the nature of in-city traffic meant I could walk to the office in less time than it took to drive there. Parking was also an issue. Every year the city council, much to the dismay of stores and shoppers, workers and residents, removed more parking spaces. The few that remained were expensive – and you couldn't park for more than two hours.

Walking saved me time and money. Probably helped save the environment a bit too. I could pick up breakfast along the way, and a breath of fresh air is never wrong. We say that a lot around here. To the extent that people sleep with their windows open in winter and think it perfectly natural for little kids to take a nap outside in their trolleys. Modern-day Vikings, I suppose.

The lobby was empty. I steered towards the elevators, winter coat dripping water on the floor. The idiots who had built the building had used polished granite tiles – imported from China, despite an abundance of local stone – on the floors. Super slippery when wet. Kind of dumb in a place where it rains or snows more often than not.

I had a big woolen scarf wrapped around my neck, and a pair of fur-lined gloves trying vainly to warm my frozen fingers. With my breakfast roll in one hand and my double Americano in the other, I pushed my trouser pocket, where I had my access card – I refuse to have it dangling around my neck – against the card reader and entered the code and floor number using my knuckles.

The doors closed, the elevator climbed, the doors opened again, and I stepped out into the Company's reception area. An old-fashioned analog clock on the wall said nine-ish, leaning towards half-past – a typical Monday morning. Typical any morning. I have flexible hours, but I'm supposed to be at the office no later than nine. Most people start around eight, I think. But I'm not most people.

Abbie, the Company's receptionist-slash-secretary, was in her usual spot behind her desk, ready to greet me with that winning smile of hers. I like to think of my Abbie as an improved upon, blonde version of Kate Beckinsale. With a generous sprinkling of Blake Lively. Maybe a dash of Gisele.