“Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” She repeated the phrase her father taught her. It wasn’t really a red sky, more orange, but it took her mind off her predicament.

Anyone passing by, not that anyone would, might think she was crouching there on purpose. “Not on your life would I be here on purpose.” She laughed, now she was talking to herself. But if she didn’t laugh, she might cry.

“One more time!” She tried to extricate herself again, pushing with her feet and hands, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her ankle as well as the searing scrapes on both her legs. Three times and nothing changed. She sank down took stock of her situation once more.

“This would be funny if I weren’t here alone.” She’d been hiking and snagged her shorts on a bush. As she attempted to untangle herself, they tore completely and fell to her ankles. Losing her balance, she slid down the boulder she’d been standing on. Her rapid descent was stopped when she slid into a narrow crevice where she now found herself trapped.

Continue reading at Donna B. McNicol, Author