The cave smelled like a place where insects and their grass-filled bellies crawled up to die.
“Coordinates must be wrong.” Jim reached around to his backpack and pulled a notebook out – more like a pile of mismatched sheets held together by a cord.
I wrapped my hands around his before he started flipping through his notes. “Honey, give this place a chance.”
“What if I misread the jungle’s name?”
I frowned and tugged on the book. He let me have it. As I turned around, my feet bumped in something and a few moss-covered pieces broke off the pile.
This is a drabble for Monday’s prompt.