Through the Slough

Two sisters headed home, returning from an errand in town. The younger one suggested a shortcut: through the slough. The older one knew better, but she agreed anyway. The tall grass blocked the view of their father in the distance; soon the girls were lost. Going right, then left when encountering each grass clump could still mean they were traveling in circles—something lost people do. They kept going despite exhaustion, thirst, and sweating in summer’s heat. Finally, the older one spied a thinning of the grass, a glimpse of sunlight peeking through stems. They trudged in that direction and escaped the slough. A person appeared and pointed out their father, not too far away. Time in the slough taught the two to stay in the way.