The Sky is Falling

Hey Peeps!  As you're all dying to know, its Indie Ink time again!  Hooray!  This week I was challenged by Miranda at My Eclectic Bookshelf, whose prompt will be at the end.  This prompt left me a jumbled mess, because first I knew what I was going to write about, and then, I didn't.  Then, I struggled some more and had a little help from Maid Marian and finally found myself back on track.  I hope you enjoy.  I challenged Trish, who postponed her breakdown to give us something fantastic. You can check her out here.

The Sky is Falling

We awoke together, a single mass of tangled, knotted limbs, lying in a puddle of rain. The smell of mildewing fabric permeated the air and my lungs as my body forced itself to breathe deeply.  We looked at each other, each trying to suppress a gasp, to disguise our surprise of what the other had become in the night. 

We were not written into a fairy tale; far from it, but really, who is?  She was covered in dirt, a few leaves twisted into her hair, and a spider bite marked her shoulder between two freckles.  I’m sure I looked no better; I could feel the layers of grime and film covering me like a second skin.  We were at that point, afterwards, where you feel dirty, and not in a good way.  You don’t want anyone to see you; you’re filthy, sticky, and sweaty, and you just want to cover yourself up or find the nearest shower.   

I can only vaguely recall the sound of the tent ripping… was it her foot, or mine, that tore the seam from the corner?  Was it before or after that second time?  That one was pretty wild. The tent was quite old, and her nails, long and sharp, were most likely responsible for the puncture marks in the sleeping bag, which collectively might explain the puddle. 

Considering everything, she was the most beautiful thing I had seen in days.  Also, quite possibly the funniest.  This girl, this woman, prided herself on being impeccably dressed, always to the nines, and she laid next to me as nothing short of a disaster. 

 All of a sudden, my constitution was shattered and I let everything go, shaking away the disaster that had been our lives the previous night.  As if a subconscious action, like breathing, I let out the most gut-busting, obnoxious laugh I’d ever heard myself make during my entire life.  “You look like Jane the Jungle Woman!’ I said, finally, as I inhaled a deep breath while trying to regain my composure. 

She glared at me, raised her eyebrow, and turned her eyes to bore straight into mine the way only a woman can while silently telling me that this was the inappropriate time.   In all honesty, she was probably right, but I don’t take social cues very well and I would rather laugh about situations outside of my control.  Apparently now wasn't the time to do anything but stay silent, wring out our lake-tent, pack up the car, and drive back to suburbia.
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My prompt was: "You wake up lying in a puddle of rain... what are the events that lead up to this...".