Book - A Mammoth of a Time

That night we slept under the stars on the roof of the Mammoth, the night was so clear one could make out all the intricate constellations, I could stare up there for hours. There’s something so comforting thinking about how tiny and insignificant we are compared to the rest of this giant, unknown galaxy full of wonder. I woke up cold but refreshed. I love sleeping outside, I’ve gotten used to it. Today we’re heading up Mount Wellington. I never look forward to the long drives, but up mountains I always think it’s worth it up the top. It’s a fairly long drive all the way to and then up Mount Wellington and we tend to find ways to pass the time by ourselves, but Mum hates to see us not talking. Quiet Quentin’s not the social type and it drives her nuts. In this particular instance, she tried to remedy this with a game of I-Spy. “A clock ?” asked Quentin, not looking up from his iPad. “How would it be a clock ?” I ridiculed him. “Where on this mountain would there be a clock ?” “Shut up Mia, I thought she said inside!” Umm Okay, Quentin bit rude! “A car?” Said Dad. That wasn’t the answer. “You lot are terrible at this,” Mum said. “You just ask bad questions,” replied Quentin. “There’s not a thing on this mountain that starts with the letter C!” “Well maybe if you would look up from that ridiculous iPad you’d notice something for once!” Mum said, making glaring eye contact through the rear-view mirror.