In her journal, Emma wrote:

It had been an arduous hike, made difficult not only by the rugged terrain and hot sun but by a wrong turn, a twisted ankle, and a water bottle that plunged hundreds of feet into the canyon. Back at the camp, we were eager for the shower.

Daniel frowned. “For some reason it doesn’t turn on,” he told Emma.

“Probably clogged,” she said, and without hesitation she stuck her fingers into the pipe, just as Daniel was warning her that it could be filled spiders or hornets.

“Just a lot of gunk,” Emma said. “Try it now.”

Still no water.

“Maybe it needs to be primed,” Emma suggested. “Either that or it’s bone dry. Why do they call it bone dry, anyway?” She moved Daniel’s hand between her legs. “Is bone dry the opposite of pussy wet?”