internal frights

does a call to adventure have to start with imaging the worst? Raw Material—#33

A week ago, Christopher and I dropped Max and Augie at sleepaway camp in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Max went last summer. This year, Augie wanted to join him. We spent the night before drop-off at a homey, sprawling inn with dozens of rustic cabins in the mountain’s valley.

Bizarrely, we were booked into the same room as last year: half a cabin with a swi…