What the fuck? That bastard just tried to kill me. This was the first thought that popped into my head when I regained consciousness. I pushed myself upright from the ground and wiped the dirt from my face. It was dark, and very hard to make out where I was. I could smell and feel the earth beneath me, I had to be outside. I looked up, but couldn’t see the stars, something was obscuring their light. It is night - isn’t it?
I wrung my hands together, trying to stop them from shaking, and felt the gritty batter-like consistency of mud. Oh Jesus, am I bleeding? I looked down to my hands, but couldn’t make out if it was sweat or blood that had mixed with the dirt. The ground wasn’t wet, that much I could ascertain even in the dark. I stood up, wobbling a little, like I was drunk. My clothes felt stiff and hollow, like they were frozen, and my body rattled around inside them as I stumbled through the dark. I patted myself down, like a guard checking a prisoner, making sure I wasn’t injured. Nothing hurt to the touch, thank God, but the unpleasant wetness seemed to be all over my body, and my clothes were beginning to chafe at my skin.
Remarkably, though, my feet were dry. Just as well, given the five mile hike to the nearest outpost of civilization.
J. Peterman hiking boots. $149.00. Because we all have those "What The Fuck?" moments.
Opening: Stacey.....Continuation: Anon.