Josephine tugged her rough wool coat over her sweater. She wished for the tenth time that the one-room cottage she and Mohammad shared had heating. The baby, Katrine, burbled in her cradle, making Josephine smile. She plucked the baby from her nest of blankets and bundled her up as best as she could, laughing out loud as the eight-month old discovered her mittens once again. She wrapped a scarf over her mouth and hair, pulled hat over Katrine’s tiny red ears, and opened the door to the cold.

Jo hated winter, with its impending month of night. She shuddered at the thought of the seemingly unending darkness. She wished that moving would become easier, but the difficulty was only increasing. If she and Mo could just make it to the south, where he was born, they would live in constant warmth. She smiled beneath her scarf at the thought of it. But, with attacks by and against the Capitalist Union on the rise, the government prohibited residence changes- except for those of necessity.

She sighed, tired already.