It was hard to believe that she was enjoying herself. Every year she and her ex-husband had taken the boys on a camping trip. The bugs. The smelly,...not particularly sanitary latrines. Waking up damp. On top of the general discomfort, she was always left at camp watching over the youngest while her ex took the older boys fishing for most of the day. She’d hated every single moment. The boys loved it, so she’d endured it.This year, the first after her divorce, she’d especially dreaded the. He didn't mind, as he lovedthe smell of her hair. He had since the first day they met,back in freshman year. They rode the same bus. Ed peered ahead into a bush only to find a whiskeybottle. An odd sight, a discarded whiskey bottle insuburbia, but not necessarily uncommon. He tried to readthe name by rubbing off the grime, but to no avail. "Here, " Krystal offered, "let me try." As Krystalrubbed off the dirt, a carbon copy of Waldo from appearedin front of her. "Greetings current mistress and. More

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