Hillbilly Camping

Fudge Placebo
4 days ago
1 min read

Every Friday evening they escaped the noise of the world and disappeared into their little woodland retreat. They filled the pool with cool water, shared sandwiches beneath the striped umbrella and watched dragonflies skim across the wildflowers while distant thunder rolled through the clouds. At night they sat outside wrapped in old blankets, listening to owls calling through the trees as the caravan creaked gently around them.

The caravan leaked when it rained, the shower door stuck every other day, and the pool needed repairing almost every weekend, but none of it mattered. They discovered that happiness wasn't found in polished holiday parks or luxury cabins. It lived in laughter echoing through the forest, muddy footprints on the caravan floor, shared cups of tea on worn wooden steps, and the comforting knowledge that, no matter how worn the world around them became, they had built a little corner where they simply belonged.