We are lost. Very lost. Because dad doesn’t believe in GPS devices or road maps. It has been this way since my childhood. In fact, I recall one summer afternoon in which we circled around a Holiday Inn for hours because daddy couldn’t figure out the exit and refused to pull over and ask for directions.
So, anyway, we’re in the middle of god-knows-where, and all I can think of is that movie; you know, the one with the crazy, flesh-eating family. What is it called? Chainsaw Massacre?
I bite my nails as the sun goes down over an open field and wonder how in the world Dad plans to get us out of this one.
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sms/3-2013
Just playing around. The prompt called for a voyage and deserted island. However, I’ve used my creative license to come up with something else. Now that I think about it, we should do A ROUND ROBIN!
Come on Ritx, Ike, Miss Elizabeth and fellow scribes. Let’s crank this baby up and come up with a short story.
Ready? Set? Let’s do it!
