Bookworm

 

She had set up her camp a little back from the edge of the drop-off, because the view was incredible.

Her dinner had been simple, and she kept the fire going for company.

With her back up against a towering pine tree, she opened her book in the afternoon sunshine.

She was almost finished, and it was building to an exciting ending.

But the birds were singing and the breeze caressed her to sleep.

She woke with a start, and her book tumbled over the cliff, catching on an exposed root just beyond her reach.

“Dammit. I hate a cliffhanger.”