The kids play drinking games in the sun dappled forest. Some pair off, the lucky ones do, the others pray for decampment, or rain. Or bears.

We were happier then, more prone to talk and good cheer. It was a better, more giving time. But then we found the bottles empty. And bereft.

The lights went out and she said, Should we call the electrician? and his suspicions were confirmed then and he said, But the dude’s so fat.

There was an immensity of shouting and then during an awkward lull someone asked, Who among us will be an adult now? and then they all cried.

It was night now and they’d set up the tent and built a fire and they looked up at the multitude of stars and he said, I really hate camping.