Nicole Nugent

The Little Black Book

Sasha, crept along, mindful of every step he was to take from now on, he was tiring, and lost. Hiking boots, heavier by the minute, crunched the slippery gravel beneath him, feet blistering to pain. The squelch of socks to shoes an agonising rub at every step. The moon shone a path forward in the scrubby territory, between each monsoonal deluge. Overhanging clouds darkening with every step. His skin had turned raw from the harsh Australian sun over the days, now a burning prickle from every missile that fell from the sky. If only he’d not left so late to get back to the campground. Claps of thunder, and lightning strikes doused the dins of the wilderness, he was after all in dingo, crocodile, wild bull, and snake territory, and God knows what else surrounded him. Life could be worse, back in Seattle, fighting his wife, who’d reaped all his assets from the divorce. He had to get away, if he was lost in wild country, he was lost. So be it. This was a different lost, a better one, and if he disappeared from the face of the earth, what would it matter? No car, no home, left with just enough to escape the cold, relentless, grey winter of Washington. Yes, this was a better place to be.