The Perfect Spot

It was the perfect camping spot.

The saplings were cleared. The tents were erected. Wood for a fire was laid, but not yet lit. That would have to wait just a little longer. The jungle twilight would be short, and before it set in, the campers were having their first bath in more days than they liked to admit.

"We're going upstream," the girls said firmly, and left the guys to figure out how best to avoid the runoff from their baths.

It was a spot to which they would never return. Despite its perfection, they already knew that they'd never be back. The real question was whether they would ever get out. This was not a good jungle to be lost in. If they died in it, lost trekkers, they would not be the first.

But they weren't thinking of that as they settled in, got the fire started, and cooked the three packets of noodles they had left. It was all they had, but that wasn't enough to spoil this dinner together. Not in this perfect spot.