A Favorite - Really?

 

 



When they ran out of gas they simply pulled off the highway and set up camp.  They had been headed to the desert to camp anyway so why not here?

 

They got themselves far enough away from the road to be safe but still close enough to hear any help that might come along.

 

By that afternoon the wind had kicked up so hard they had to keep their faces buried in their hands to protect their eyes from all the sand, which was a shame because they never got to watch their tent go sailing up, spin around and finally fly out of sight, like some very expensive tent-shaped kite.

 

The only reason the arguing lasted into the evening was because you-know-who had locked the keys in the truck, so getting at the batteries and lamp oil was out of the question.

 

The ultimate decision to leave the truck there and start walking back to the highway in search of help had been unanimous. 

Had they left some kind of marker along the edge of the road they might have eventually been able to return to the spot where they had started, but of course they didn’t. 

 

Funny thing – even though they never did find their truck again, for some reason you-know-who’s dad had a major fit over the fact that they had lost his favorite shovel.