Suggested prompt...__________________________
"I really have to pee," Madge announced loudly, the irritation evident in her voice.
John sighed. This is not what he'd intended when he booked the trip. The environment, the shared experience of beauty... the package was supposed to bring them together, help them rediscover intimacy. Between the trip itself, the gear, and new clothes, he'd sunk a lot of money into the trip. He'd wanted Madge to see that life... that he... wasn't all about work.... Maybe he was just trying to assuage his guilt....
"I'm serious. I really have to pee. Bad."
Madge looked past him to the tour guide, seeking his eyes behind his dark glasses.
"Uh, you bet," the young man answered her slowly, dragging out the words. "Let's just get past this next rapid--"
"Hope I don't pee in the boat then," she pouted. "I really didn't expect these kinds of conditions... no bathrooms... Can't they just set up porta potties along the river? Jesus."
Madge continued to grumble, at least quietly now, to anyone in the boat who would listen, as John simply stared at her. What had he been thinking? Where was his brain when he'd seen her at Jack's party in her red stilettos and tiny black dress? What had possessed him to marry her, for Christ's sake? All that Catholic guilt, all that still trying to please his father shit. All that need for a trophy to prove who he was. One thing was certain, she wasn't who he was. She was now the albatross around his neck, and the sooner he made amends, the sooner he would be free. He cleared his throat.
"Madge?"
"What, John?" She turned to face him.
"I've been having an affair."
~ S. Kay Murphy
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"I really have to pee," Madge announced loudly, the irritation evident in her voice.
John sighed. This is not what he'd intended when he booked the trip. The environment, the shared experience of beauty... the package was supposed to bring them together, help them rediscover intimacy. Between the trip itself, the gear, and new clothes, he'd sunk a lot of money into the trip. He'd wanted Madge to see that life... that he... wasn't all about work.... Maybe he was just trying to assuage his guilt....
"I'm serious. I really have to pee. Bad."
Madge looked past him to the tour guide, seeking his eyes behind his dark glasses.
"Uh, you bet," the young man answered her slowly, dragging out the words. "Let's just get past this next rapid--"
"Hope I don't pee in the boat then," she pouted. "I really didn't expect these kinds of conditions... no bathrooms... Can't they just set up porta potties along the river? Jesus."
Madge continued to grumble, at least quietly now, to anyone in the boat who would listen, as John simply stared at her. What had he been thinking? Where was his brain when he'd seen her at Jack's party in her red stilettos and tiny black dress? What had possessed him to marry her, for Christ's sake? All that Catholic guilt, all that still trying to please his father shit. All that need for a trophy to prove who he was. One thing was certain, she wasn't who he was. She was now the albatross around his neck, and the sooner he made amends, the sooner he would be free. He cleared his throat.
"Madge?"
"What, John?" She turned to face him.
"I've been having an affair."
Ms. Murphy....
LOVE this!!!
The story drew me in immediately with the first line. loved it.
Adventures aren’t for
Weak-willed
Lily-livered
Shaking, quaking
Cowards.
Bring on your stout hearts,
Your ram-rod spines,
And brave souls,
Heroes, all.
And forge ahead, into the unknown,
Run the rapids,
Climb the pinnacles,
Shoot the slots,
Make your mark,
But leave stones unturned,
Trees uncut,
Water pristine,
Leave only your whisper behind.
The small,
Still,
Voice,
That cries,
I was here.
“Squat, you must squat over the water. All things liquid go in the river.”
And with that many of the women looked a bit… well… uncomfortable with what they were being told.
“22,000 people come down the river each year. They all stop at the same spots along the way. If you all peed behind the bushes in the sand it would soon smell of a very large litter box. So again, all liquid goes in the river.”
The men just smiled and two had already moved just 20 or so feet away, turned their backs to the group and began to obey our river guide’s directive.
We women were still processing that first word, “Squat.”
Drinking water and peeing, it is amazing how quickly things come down to the absolute basics. Soon we women realized we had no real choice. So squat we did in groups of two or three. Every stop of the raft was girls this way and boys that way.
Ahh, but back to the basics. What about the… other. Yes, that too was a thing. Each evening the portable potties were the first things off the boat and set up. There were two, one in a tent close to camp and one down a path through a grove of small trees and there in the open air you could sit and enjoy what nature demanded in the open air of… nature.
Again the women balked. No way. And yet it only took until the second night when the line for that open air adventure was longer than the line for food.
And it only took one of us to decide this was the picture of the trip. Mine is framed and hanging in our four-walled closed-in cold porcelain little room.
Oh, to squat again. Yes, not a problem at all.
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