As we made our way quietly through the murky water, all I could think about were those Rambo movies….you know – where the army guys are creeping through gross, jungle-y weeds and stuff? That’s what I felt like. (Only without the firearms…or the Comanche helicopter back-up.) I should’ve thought to bring something to defend myself against a dragon. But what could I have brought? A garden trowel? A kitchen knife? Darn it. Why do I always think of these things after the fact?
Haha! This is great! One should never judge a book by its genre lol
