Entry #75

Lost
by Therese


"Oh, shit."

"What?"

"Shit!"

"You said you knew where you were going, are you telling me that you don't?!"

"No, Helen. I literally just stepped into a steaming pile of shit."

"Oh." She paused, calming down slightly. "Gross."

Although it was true that he had actually stepped rather directly into a fresh pile, Mark hadn't been entirely truthful. Not only were they actually lost, but the droppings belonged to an actual bear.

He wasn't sure how to get out, but was sure that she would lose it altogether if he admitted that. He looked up through the trees at the sun, which was starting to set. He was trying to keep calm, but it was difficult faced with her growing panic. He wasn't looking forward to telling Helen that they were about to spend the night a forest.

In Maine.

In April.

With no supplies.

"Helen?" He braced himself, finally resigned to facing the inevitable.

"Yes?" She looked like the calm before the storm, sensing that he wasn't about to share good news.

"We might… be… just… a little lost."

She glared at him, but said nothing.

"And I may have… stepped in fresh bear shit."

Her eyes widened, but still, she said nothing.

"Any ideas?"

"Glad you asked." She smiled and pulled out a compass and a bear bell. "I knew you'd get us screwed, but I didn't think you'd admit it so quickly."

Taken aback, he realized it in that one single moment: he had married a bitch.