There are two types of campers, he thought. Those that try to remember everything they were taught, and those that use one thing to exaggerate their experiences there. He was the latter.
He had three comments on that picture he had posted on his blog, as well as seven who shared their own experiences at their own camps.
It seemed the first type didn’t read his blog much.
The picture was a view of the lake where he went canoeing. He smiled at the memory.
“Hey, George,” she had smiled at him. “Wanna go canoeing? Me and a couple of others around the camp are going!”
“Nah, I think I’ll just stay here.”
“Are you sure?”
He looked up at her, displayed in the door frame. The sight of her was chilling, and the moment he looked, he couldn’t resist. “Sure.”
“Hey, George,” she said. The sound of her voice focused his gaze back up to her face. She smiled wider. “That’s better.” And she disappeared.