Two weeks ago, I went camping. I pitched a glowing green tent shaped like an igloo in a forest clearing. Inside, hung from a criss-crossed pole at the top was an old lantern running on white gas, burning with a mesh style baby sock. The light was very bright. White hot slashes poured between the flammable walls. The structure from outside looked like a radiating green snow globe, possibly shaken by a very large man with green clothing and a deep voice, shouting, “Ho, ho, ho.” I wasn’t sure if I should use the light in the tent, the fumes and heat very combustible in a small confined area.

Under the raging light was my sleeping arrangement, a single green cot. I went outside and sitting around the campfire were two people. One was a dude decked out in green camo. He wore a floppy fisherman hat with randomly attached  hooks and lures. One device was bright neon orange. A fish would spot it miles away.  He was a good fisherman, I heard. He always stuck to the rules. Catch and release.

Next to him sat a girl dressed in white, red and brown camo. She kept moving away from the fire. I watched steam rising from her clothes.   She was medium height, with streaky pink hair tied up at the back. She had a camo-tattoo around her ankle, matching her clothes. She wore a large mason jar smile, showing many bright white teeth. They glowed like bright white light.  Good for midnight bladder jaunts to the bush, I thought.

She asked to come in the tent, and I said sure. I brought a blue sleeping bag with me, but I couldn’t find it. I searched the tent and then went outside to look around the campsite, but it was nowhere. I was so sure I’d brought it. Streaky hair girl got on the cot. I did the same. It was very tight and we couldn’t move. We snuggled and tried to get warm. I tried to cover us, but the only means were the bags the cot and tent were stored in.  I considered lighting the lamp, but I was afraid we’d go up in a fireball. Death by fire or by ice, I’m not sure what is better.

It was a restless night.  We couldn’t get comfortable or warm on the small cot with no coverings except leftover bags. Finally, the sun rose. The tent quickly became an oven – nature’s extremes. We were starting to suffocate, so we got out of the tent. Fisher guy was still there sitting around the fire. He’d fallen asleep in a chair before the fire. I asked him how he slept. He said like a baby with blue lips and toes.

I finally found my sleeping bag. I handed it to pink hair girl, but she said she was  going fishing. I said, good luck I hope you catch something. She smiled with those bright white teeth. I tried to remember where my sunglasses were.