I was drawing a blank for tonight, and I got this prompt from @drjuliegill on Twitter.
It was enough to get me past the halfway mark... 25,779 words! Woohoo!
The campfire blazed merrily in the centre of the site.
It had taken a while to get it going, but once the wood caught, it had caught quite solidly. Martha was pleased with this. It had taken her a while to figure out how to get the fire going, but with the help of an old Boy Scouts book, she'd done it.
The whole night seemed a little brighter, and a little more cheerful.
Travelling the country and camping as she went meant that she was going to need to learn a lot of new skills. This was part of the challenge though, learning what to do to keep herself going. Martha was well outside of her comfort zone. It was absolutely perfect.
Martha sat on the ground, slowly feeding more twigs into the fire. She found a pinecone, and tossed it in, grinning as it burst into a shower of sparks. The night was quiet with only the crackle of the flame. She sat and enjoyed the silence and the heat.
It didn't take too long for the warmth to make her feel dozy. Martha laid back on the cool earth, staring up at the stars. You didn't get stars like this in the city. The sky was a pincushion of lights, thousands and millions of points far above.
She tried to remember constellations and where they would be in the sky, but nothing that seemed familiar appeared. Giving up on the formal stargazing, Martha began creating her own patterns. Snakes and spaceships and giant teddybears appeared in her imagination. She lay there, giggling softly, while ridiculous images danced through her head.
Tomorrow when she was in town. Martha decided she'd have to find enough Wi Fi to download a constellation app so she could learn this properly. It would be great if she could leave here being able to recognise one legitimate cluster.
The ground was remarkably comfortable, and the stars spun lazily overhead. Martha may have dozed a little, and only started to wake up when the cool air crept in around the dying fire, chiling her skin a bit too much.
More wood was added, and Martha gently stoked the fire back up to its original level. The chill slowly left the campsite.
Martha stood and stretched, working out the kinks from her impromptu nap. She jogged ont he spot to get the blood flowing, and waved her arms over her head. Laughing, she turned the jog into a spin, and started dancing, singing old camp songs and whatever else popped into her head. She danced and sang until she started to feel like she'd been working out, and she began to slow down.
Suddenly, Martha was hungry. She walked over to her car, opened the trunk, and dug around in the shopping bags. She found what she was looking for, grabbing the small package out of the car with one hand while she pulled a stick out with the other. She had the presence of mind to shut the trunk to keep bears out if she fell asleep again, and then ran back to the campfire.
She dropped onto the ground, cross legged and ripped the bag opn with her teeth. She set it down beside her, and reached in.
She pulled out one fluffy marshmallow, and very slowly and deliberately she pressed it onto the end of the stick. She'd laughed when she bought the metal toasting fork, but it gave her an excuse to do this, every night if she wanted to. It made it more official, more real, more... mandatory was the word that came to mind, and as she shook her head at the brain that wouldn't stop with the business words and ideas se slowly lowered the marshmallow into the flames.
Martha held it just on the edge of the fire, rotating it slowly to ensure the best coverage of toastiness. She kept up an even pace, watching as the white sugary pillow started to turn yellow, then brown, then just a tinge of black. A few seconds longer, Martha thought, but before she could finish thinking it the marshmallow burst into flame.
"Damn!" Martha jumped up, pulling the stick with its sugar-fuelled torch towards her, but the damage had been done. The marshmallow had melted enough that it fell into the fire, briefly flaring before completely disappearing.
Reaching down she grabbed anothe rmarshmallow and placed it on the stick. This time she held it further from the flame. Minutes passed, and nothing seemed to happen besides a very gentle yellowing of the marshmallow. She lowered down a bit more, pulling it out as soon as a darker brown started to appear.
"Almost perfect," she said, pleased. She popped the hot candy into her mouth, enjoying the feeling of the melting marshmallow on her tongue.
This would require a great deal of practice, she decided. It was a good thing she'd completely missed having her dinner. This was camping, real food was overrated anyway.
The fire had died down a fair bit by the time Martha was full form her marshmallow roast. The bag was half empty. Tomorrow she'd have to eat very virtuously to make up for htis, but it was so worth it. She held the stick in the fire for a few minutes to burn it clean, then leaned it against a rock to let it cool.
Next thing that needed doing: Setting up the tent.
Logically, this probably should have been the first thing she did when she got here. It probably would have been even better if she'd have done it before the sugar high. If people had been putting up tents before sugar was invented, they jsut had missed out on the best part, she decided. She may have giggled as she pulled out her gear.
The tent wasn't large, just big enough for her, a sleeping bag, a book, and some clothing. It was supposed to be easy to set up, a true one person tent that only required one person to get it set. The instructions were very clear on this. The salesman had also insisted it would be easy. He'd demonstrated it deftly in the store to prove it.
The instructions and salesman had lied.
Martha got one side up. She ran around to the other side, and as she propped the poles up the other side fell over. And vice versa. A lot.
This went on for about half an hour. Martha was getting tired. And cranky. And hungry again.
Maybe the tent could wait a little longer.
Martha went back to the campfire. She stared into the flames, her mind drifting through thoughts of work and travel and friends and family. Eventually there was just the flame, and the night, and an overwhelming feeling of sleepiness. Martha wanted nothign more than to crawl into her sleeping bag and sink into oblivion.
To go to bed would require getting the tent up. That would require effort, and the ability to think. Martha was slowly losing the ability for both. It was also getting very dark, and the campfire wasn't throwing off enough light to read the instructions by.
She stood up, slowly, groggily. She gathered up the tent pieces, and threw them in the trunk. After making sure the fire wasn't going to go out of control before burning out, Martha got into her car, reclined the seat all the way back, and tried to get comfortable. She dozed off quickly.
She woke up briefly to a rustling side outside. She reached over and hit the automatic locks, making sure the car was secure. She shifted to find a more comfortable position, and then fell back to sleep.
Sunlight hit Martha straight in the face, and she woke up blinking and squinting. Everything ached from sleeping in such an awkward position. She stretched, feet hitting the pedals and arms running against hte roof. her car was way too small for this. She opened the door and stepped out.
Something seemed wrong. Something was definitely not the way she had left it last night, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She rubbed at her eyes, stretched a little more, and took another long look at her site.
Car, tree, campfire put full of charcoal, roasting stick still propped up against a rock, marshmallows...
There were marshmallows everywhere.
Martha blinked again, and looked around some more. She was pretty sure she'd put the bag away with the tent. She popped open the trunk and saw canvas and metal poles, but that was all. She must have left the marshmallows out, but htey were in the bag. She was pretty sure she hadn't dragged them around.
There were some prints in the dirt around the campfire circle. Small, five digits, almost looked human...
Racoons, of course. Next stop she'd have to be more careful with her food.
She cleaned up the campsite, buried the remains of the fire just to be safe and prevent any sparks, and headed into the nearest town for some coffee, information, and food.
There was a small cafe and diner in town, and it advertised free Wi Fi. Perfect. Martha parked her car out front, and wandered in, straightening her hair as best she could with one hand. She found a booth near the door, and pulled out her phone, linking up to the internet as she ordered coffee and a large fry up of eggs, bacon, and potatoes.
The coffee was tolerable, and Martha searched the app store for anything having to do with constellations. She found several that looked good, and downloaded them. Her breakfast arrived, and she made room for everything on the small table in front of her. She studied the maps carefully over breakfast, propping the phone up with the napkin dispenser on the table. One hand held the fork, the other tapped the screen occasionally to move to the next page of information so she wouldn't miss anything.
Martha learned a lot over breakfast. She learned to find the North star and use it as a reference point, and to find the Big Dipper. She memorised several constellations that were supposed to be prominent at this time of year. Orion should be exceptionally prominent, she discovered, and she sketched a small version of it on the napkin, just to make sure she could remember what it looked like.
That took care of one item on her list of things to accomplish on this trip. Yay for technology, and the ability to pull it out of the air from diners in the middle of nowhere.
Next step was to find her path for the day. A quick Google and she had a route, several landmarks to check out, and a campsite booked for this evening. It turned out that she was right in the middle of prime bizarre architecture central. Lots of weirdly shaped buildings, shops, garages, and water towers. She could get some excellent photos, have a nie drive, and, hopefully, a good night's sleep.
The final check was for instructions on setting the tent up that would actually make sense. There were several sites complaining about the design of this model - somethign Martha wished she had seen before she had bought the horrid thing - but there were also manyhints on how to make the setup easier. She saved them to the phone, and made a note to set the tent up first thing tonight, to avoid a repeat of yesterday.
She finished her breakfast, which made her feel much more clear headed. As she gathererd her things together to pay the bill and leave, she had one more thought.
Martha went up to the counter, handing over her credit card. She exchanged pleasantries with the cashier.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the cashier asked, handing back the card and receipt.
"As a matter of fact," answered Martha, a small smile on her face. " Can you tell me the best place around here for me to find a few packages of marshmallows?:
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