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Curiously
,
all
of
them
were
thinking
different
thoughts
but
feeling
the
same
emotion
:
relief
.
The
bridge
had
been
crossed
.
"
Will
it
ever
be
spring
?
"
Wendy
murmured
.
Jack
squeezed
her
tighter
.
"
Before
you
know
it
.
What
do
you
say
we
go
in
and
have
some
supper
?
It
’
s
cold
out
here
.
"
She
smiled
.
All
afternoon
Jack
had
seemed
distant
and
…
well
,
odd
.
Now
he
sounded
more
like
his
normal
self
"
Fine
by
me
.
How
about
you
,
Danny
?
"
"
Sure
.
"
So
they
went
in
together
,
leaving
the
wind
to
build
to
the
low
-
pitched
scream
that
would
go
on
all
night
-
a
sound
they
would
get
to
know
well
.
Flakes
of
snow
swirled
and
danced
across
the
porch
.
The
Overlook
faced
it
as
it
had
for
nearly
three
quarters
of
a
century
,
its
darkened
windows
now
bearded
with
snow
,
indifferent
to
the
fact
that
it
was
now
cut
off
from
the
world
.
Or
possibly
it
was
pleased
with
the
prospect
.
Inside
its
shell
the
three
of
them
went
about
their
early
evening
routine
,
like
microbes
trapped
in
the
intestine
of
a
monster
.
A
week
and
a
half
later
two
feet
of
snow
lay
white
and
crisp
and
even
on
the
grounds
of
the
Overlook
Hotel
.
The
hedge
menagerie
was
buried
up
to
its
haunches
;
the
rabbit
,
frozen
on
its
hind
legs
,
seemed
to
be
rising
from
a
white
pool
.
Some
of
the
drifts
were
over
five
feet
deep
.
The
wind
was
constantly
changing
them
,
sculpting
them
into
sinuous
,
dunelike
shapes
.
Twice
Jack
had
snowshoed
clumsily
around
to
the
equipment
shed
for
his
shovel
to
clear
the
porch
,
the
third
time
he
shrugged
,
simply
cleared
a
path
through
the
towering
drift
lying
against
the
door
,
and
let
Danny
amuse
himself
by
sledding
to
the
right
and
left
of
the
path
.
The
truly
heroic
drifts
lay
against
the
Overlook
’
s
west
side
;
some
of
them
towered
to
a
height
of
twenty
feet
,
and
beyond
them
the
ground
was
scoured
bare
to
the
grass
by
the
constant
windflow
.
The
first
-
floor
windows
were
covered
,
and
the
view
from
the
dining
room
which
Jack
had
so
admired
on
closing
day
was
now
no
more
exciting
than
a
view
of
a
blank
movie
screen
.
Their
phone
had
been
out
for
the
last
eight
days
,
and
the
CB
radio
in
Ullman
’
s
office
was
now
their
only
communications
link
with
the
outside
world
.
It
snowed
every
day
now
,
sometimes
only
brief
flurries
that
powdered
the
glittering
snow
crust
,
sometimes
for
real
,
the
low
whistle
of
the
wind
cranking
up
to
a
womanish
shriek
that
made
the
old
hotel
rock
and
groan
alarmingly
even
in
its
deep
cradle
of
snow
.
Night
temperatures
had
not
gotten
above
10
°
,
and
although
the
thermometer
by
the
kitchen
service
entrance
sometimes
got
as
high
as
25
°
in
the
early
afternoons
,
the
steady
knife
edge
of
the
wind
made
it
uncomfortable
to
go
out
without
a
ski
mask
.
But
they
all
did
go
out
on
the
days
when
the
sun
shone
,
usually
wearing
two
sets
of
clothing
and
mittens
on
over
their
gloves
.
Getting
out
was
almost
a
compulsive
thing
;
the
hotel
was
circled
with
the
double
track
of
Danny
’
s
Flexible
Flyer
.
The
permutations
were
nearly
endless
:
Danny
riding
while
his
parents
pulled
;
Daddy
riding
and
laughing
while
Wendy
and
Danny
tried
to
pull
(
it
was
just
possible
for
them
to
pull
him
on
the
icy
crust
,
and
flatly
impossible
when
powder
covered
it
)
;
Danny
and
Mommy
riding
;
Wendy
riding
by
herself
while
her
menfolk
pulled
and
puffed
white
vapor
like
drayhorses
,
pretending
she
was
heavier
than
she
was
.
They
laughed
a
great
deal
on
these
sled
excursions
around
the
house
,
but
the
whooping
and
impersonal
voice
of
the
wind
,
so
huge
and
hollowly
sincere
,
made
their
laughter
seem
tinny
and
forced
.
