Lost

After only a few minutes
all the trees began to
look very much alike.
He knew he must be lost.
The minutes turned to hours.
Light to dark.
His thoughts turned to loved ones.
How would they find him?
Fetal?
Skeletal?
Suddenly, a voice called to him –

“Hey, buddy, pick a Christmas tree. We’re closing.”

__________________________________
This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.

If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man.
The challenge is on.

It is also G-Man's birthday.

Happy Birthday, Galen.

Or come back on Sunday to try my Sunday 160.
If you can fill a text message, you can do this.

No Rose Bowl

It was a classic battle.
Back and forth.
Toe to toe.
A true heavyweight fight.
No one deserved to lose,
but in the end
it wouldn't be Roses for beloved Beavers.

This is a Sunday 160.
Take the 160 Challenge if you dare.

But better yet, Challenge yourself to post the best comment. There may even be a prize!