Ficlets

“Now, honey, I told you to ask for directions,” said Sara. “But no. You had to be Rambo and take me out here into this mesquito-filled jungle place with all kinds of messy creatures and get us lost.”

Gordon placed the map on the table, spreading it out so that Sara could see exactly where they were lost.

“See, honey. We are here,” Gordon said.

“But where is here?” Sara asked.

“Right here. See this spot on the map by the creek? We are just to the north of that creek, by the bend in the river. The river is just over that rise.”

“Then why are we lost? If you know where we are then why in hell don’t you take me home? I think you’re lost. You just won’t admit it.”

Gordon was losing the argument and he knew it. Sure he was lost, but he could not tell Sara. He spent the last week convincing her he was a camping expert. “I know those woods,” he had said to her days ago.

“I know these woods,” Gordon said. “Trust me. I know exactly where we are. I can get us home at any time. What’s your hurry?”