The Day Of The Fluorescent Tourist Filled Road

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The clock ticked down as we had less than thirty minutes to find our way out of the labyrinth that we stumbled into. As we adventured further our once unscathed gleaming shoes became soiled as they dredged through the dense, sticky mud that now engulfed the path. A path once created with the type of gravel that crunches and crackles like a can being crushed. Naturally, every step lead farther out of familiarity, inching into an unfamiliar landscape. Furthermore, the probability of returning to the fluorescent tourist filled road dwindling. The maze we had stumbled upon threw us in a daze, as a result not a single speculation in our conscious minds on where we had landed ourselves. Twenty minutes were spent attempting to grasp where we concluded our travel in addition to settling our anxiety. Nonetheless, we were lost, as a result of countless deviations leaving us in a foreign location . The equanimity of the breeze from the Caribbean sea granted us the opportunity to recollect the memory of the detours we had chosen. To no avail, we were unable to unlock the portions of our memories containing the needed information. As I yanked out my cell phone with hopes of accessing my GPS, the greeting of a black screen with a flaming red depleted battery symbol beamed back. As I turned around to my friend only five hundred feet behind an unpleasant salty taste flooded my mouth from the sweat dribbling down from my now greasy blonde hair. I observed that is black hair had become matted

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