Story Title: Not All Who Wander Are Lost (But We Are)
“Well, that’s not much help,” I murmured, hands on hips. This had to be someone’s idea of a joke. There was nothing, no one, as far as the eye could see, except for this sign. This seeming beacon of salvation. I squinted at the sign post towering over me with arrows pointed every which way labeled with particularly disobliging directions such as THIS WAY, THAT WAY, ANOTHER WAY.
I turned as hysterical laughter bubbled up from behind me. My best friend Kristin was doubled over, hands on her knees, laughing, with tears streaming down her face.
“You okay?”
She tried to speak, pointing at the sign, but was laughing too hard to get the words out. She wheezed and clutched her sides, as if she could hold in the involuntary laughter. She’d obviously snapped.
We’d been walking for forever, hours at least. We were hot and tired and thirsty, but we kept our spirits up reminiscing about old times and talking shit about mutual acquaintances, cracking each other up by making fun of ourselves and our shared terrible sense of direction, which is what had gotten us into this mess in the first place. We’d been flagging when we’d seen the sign post in the distance and the sight had buoyed us enough that we’d increased our pace, hurrying toward the distant bellfire. As soon as we got to that sign, we’d know where the hell we were and how long we had left to go…
And now, here we were.
And here was this stupid, unhelpful, demoralizing sign.
Kristin straightened, pulling herself together, and inhaled, letting it out in a long shuddering breath.
“The sign,” She gestured at the object of offense with a flattened hand. “The sign…”
She snorted, dissolving into peals again, and sat down hard on the ground. I surveyed her as she convulsed and whooped. Yep, she’d totally lost it.
“We’re lost!” she practically screamed through her hilarity.
“Yes,” I drew out the syllable as if humoring a child.
“We’re fucked,” she managed before laughter exploded out of her again. The laughter took on an unhinged edge and her face grimaced slightly. Now I wasn’t sure if she was laughing or sobbing. Possibly both?
I watched this hysteria manifest for several minutes. Eventually, her laughter slowed.
“Whew,” she said, wiping her eyes, with only a slight giggle in her voice. She looked up at that stupid sign and chuckled again, shaking her head. “Oh man.”
She let herself fall back, lying on the ground.
After a moment, I sank to the ground and lay down next to her.
“Oh man,” she said again, addressing the cloudless sky, a restrained mirth still tremoring her voice. “We are so screwed.”
I glared at that stupid fucking sign.
“Yep. Totally screwed.”
“Well, that’s not much help,” I murmured, hands on hips. This had to be someone’s idea of a joke. There was nothing, no one, as far as the eye could see, except for this sign. This seeming beacon of salvation. I squinted at the sign post towering over me with arrows pointed every which way labeled with particularly disobliging directions such as THIS WAY, THAT WAY, ANOTHER WAY.
I turned as hysterical laughter bubbled up from behind me. My best friend Kristin was doubled over, hands on her knees, laughing, with tears streaming down her face.
“You okay?”
She tried to speak, pointing at the sign, but was laughing too hard to get the words out. She wheezed and clutched her sides, as if she could hold in the involuntary laughter. She’d obviously snapped.
We’d been walking for forever, hours at least. We were hot and tired and thirsty, but we kept our spirits up reminiscing about old times and talking shit about mutual acquaintances, cracking each other up by making fun of ourselves and our shared terrible sense of direction, which is what had gotten us into this mess in the first place. We’d been flagging when we’d seen the sign post in the distance and the sight had buoyed us enough that we’d increased our pace, hurrying toward the distant bellfire. As soon as we got to that sign, we’d know where the hell we were and how long we had left to go…
And now, here we were.
And here was this stupid, unhelpful, demoralizing sign.
Kristin straightened, pulling herself together, and inhaled, letting it out in a long shuddering breath.
“The sign,” She gestured at the object of offense with a flattened hand. “The sign…”
She snorted, dissolving into peals again, and sat down hard on the ground. I surveyed her as she convulsed and whooped. Yep, she’d totally lost it.
“We’re lost!” she practically screamed through her hilarity.
“Yes,” I drew out the syllable as if humoring a child.
“We’re fucked,” she managed before laughter exploded out of her again. The laughter took on an unhinged edge and her face grimaced slightly. Now I wasn’t sure if she was laughing or sobbing. Possibly both?
I watched this hysteria manifest for several minutes. Eventually, her laughter slowed.
“Whew,” she said, wiping her eyes, with only a slight giggle in her voice. She looked up at that stupid sign and chuckled again, shaking her head. “Oh man.”
She let herself fall back, lying on the ground.
After a moment, I sank to the ground and lay down next to her.
“Oh man,” she said again, addressing the cloudless sky, a restrained mirth still tremoring her voice. “We are so screwed.”
I glared at that stupid fucking sign.
“Yep. Totally screwed.”
