Joe staggered toward a distant glow. His clothes had been shredded by brambles. He was exhausted, but he had to get help. His wife had insisted on going camping one more time before the baby came. Some women craved pickles and ice cream. Labor had started two hours ago, but the car wouldn’t.
He pushed brush away with bloody hands. It looked like there might be a cabin ahead. He forced his way through the last of the brush and stood before a glowing tent.
He heard the wail of a newborn before he realized the tent was their own.
Friday Fictioneer Photo Prompt by Jan Wayne Fields.