Moab was awful; I hated it. It was hot and awful and everything was red and rocky- like ABLAZE. There was no shade anywhere. I mean anywhere. I don’t know why anyone would ever go there. I asked the drive-through coffee shop guy and it was so bright I could barely see him and he said he liked rafting. And the sun was so violent and the rocks and all I wanted to do was stay in the cabin and try to find a piece of somewhere dusky but everywhere it was hot. And it was only two in the afternoon but still I wouldn’t go out. And Ticker was mad but I wouldn’t go.
We stayed in cabins at the Lazy Lizard Hostel. Me and Ticker and Star and Wallflower were all in one cabin. Finally it was night and we had pizza and I missed my mom. It was gray-blue out but still very hot. A little breeze came through the curtains, and Ticker told us stories about her college. Ticker’s real name is Ivy Blechman but we named her that because she got a tick. In the main house some Asian ladies and French travelers and some college students made their dinner in the community kitchen. I think they made spaghetti. But we got pizza and stayed in the cabin and told stories because Ticker said we were too young and had to get up early