“We’re lost,” David said.
“We’re not lost” Marc replied.
“So where the hell are we if we’re not lost?”
Marc held up his iPhone. “Still no signal,” he said.
“That doesn’t matter,” David said. “Even when you had a signal, Google Maps couldn’t find us. We’re fucking lost.”
“Wait a second,” Marc said. “I see something up ahead. It looks like a milepost of some sort.”
“It’s about time,” David said. “Maybe we’ll finally get our bearings.”
The two men, hungry and tired, made their way to the colorful milepost. They looked up at the signpost and then looked at each other. David sighed and said to Marc, “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: Alexander Schimmeck on Unsplash.