My Daily Stream of Consciousness

... but not daily or necessarily true

The Camp out - a creative writing assignment

Published at 9 June 2023 6:03 PM EDT in 'General'

Elspeth stared at the bridge, another disappointment in what was turning into a very disappointing vacation.

Her fiancé convince her camping would be far more romantic then going abroad. Sure the drive was gorgeous. Trees exploded with colour; red, orange, yellow. In retrospect this should have been a red flag. Leaves change colours when it is cold.

The campsite was a twenty minute hike from the car, on the other side of a bridge. Her exasperating fiancé had to work until 5:00 so they, or rather he, had decided Elspeth would drive up by herself and he would meet her here around 8:00. Elspeth was to hike in with the gear and setup camp, then the aforementioned scoundrel would come later with the food. Which would have been fine if the 20 minute hike hadn't turned into 60 minutes due to the two trips necessitated to get all of the gear to the site, but she did it. She even got the rubik's cube of a tent up and everything stowed inside before the downpour started.

Elspeth huddled in the tent and waited ...

8:30 she checked her phone, no service

9:15 her stomach rumble, still no service, still pouring

10:30 she noticed the the puddle forming in the far corner of the tent,

11:00 she heard a giant clap followed by an explosion of light and then an ear splitting creak and a bang.

“Fuck It”

she threw on her coat and hiking boots, grabbed her dayback, turned on the flashlight and unzipped the tent.

During the twenty minute walk to the bridge the rain had gone from pelleting to misting, thank the gods. She rounded the corner and finally saw the bridge ... with a tree fallen across it.

Her only option was too wade through the water.

She shuffled down the side of the bank, taking a moment to double check she didn't hear any thunder, and stepped into the water. It was 15 feet wide and only hip deep, she hoped. Slowly she made her way across, holding her daypack and flashlight above her head as the water creeped up to her chest. Reaching the opposite bank a wash of adrenaline rolled over her and she ran to the car.

She pulled out her keys, opened the door, threw the bag inside, sat down, revved the engine, pumped the heat and waited for relief.

Her daypack vibrated.

She unzipped it and grabbed her phone, text light flashing.

“Emergency at work,
be there first thing,
love you”

Sopping wet, filthy from head to toe, stomach rumbling, she dropped the phone and threw the car into drive.

He was welcome to use the tent, she was finding a hotel.

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Christine Morton -

A mother, a daughter, a magic bean grower,
a hoper, a lover, a dandelion blower.
A dreamer, a wisher, a photograph maker,
a writer, a hoper, a lesser road taker.

© 2016 Christine Morton Redhead Snaps