Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Camp

May 26th 2017 in Microfiction

“Supper’s ready!” his mom called out. “Okaaaay!” he responded, immediately sighing. He hated the night before camp started – right down to your final fun meal (your last supper) before all of the jerks started arriving by bus and you all focused on “eating healthy” and “having fun”. He stuck out his tongue as a general comment aimed at the world while he shoved the last of his clothes into his backpack. “I don’t know why I have to pretend to be a camper,” he muttered under his breath. “I live here year ’round!” “JASON!” his mother yelled. “COME ON!” “Okay okay!” he grumbled back loudly. Before he turned out the light, he lifted his hockey mask from a pile of gear by the closet door and flipped it over onto the bed. “Might be hilarious to scare someone with this,” he whispered, smiling, before moving downstairs to dinner.


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