Thirty-Three
Not so LostI wound a pair of socks around the ends of the two longest branches we could find and then dipped them into the dying fire. Once lit, Marcus dumped a contained of lake water onto the remaining embers. A column of white steam rose into the darkening sky as the coals hissed and screamed in protest to their dousing.
We stepped with caution through the dark forest. Caleb and Beth held the sticks as the burning socks showed the way. Marcus and I followed close behind and stomped out the flaming bits that fell to the ground.
The homemade torches burned bright and quick. Black wisps of smoke curled and blended into the night bringing with it the awful, pungent smell of melting plastic as the nylon fibers in the socks burned. Before long all that remained was a fading o
