Shelter Haystack

The blizzard whipped Teresa in the face and cut through her clothes like a knife. She could barely open her eyes. She closed her eyes tightly a few times and squeezed her lids shut to warm herself up a bit. She has been lost in a snowstorm for a few hours and her strength was slowly waning. The phone froze and there seemed to be no way out. The conditions kept getting worse, minute by minute, and Tereza knew very well that she had no chance of getting down to Špindl before nightfall. No one to be found. The freezing north wind blowing across the plain pushed her down the slope until she saw an unusually large mound of snow rising from the flat white landscape with a few wooden poles around it. Gathering the last of her strength, she pushed her way closer and closer through the drifts...