Bob stumbled out of the brush, panting and disoriented. He was naked, he was emaciated, he was filthy, but most importantly, he was ALIVE. His normally pale skin was tanned and blistered from the sun, and covered in insect bites and scratches. His flamboyant hair was even more unruly than ever, full of leaves and nettles and twigs and who knew what else. He’d always been rather lanky, but his time spent in the unforgiving wilderness had whittled him down to a mere wisp of his former self.
Like an autumn leaf he trembled, clinging desperately to that last brittle twig of sanity. The things he'd had to do to survive! And how long had he been lost? Three days? Five days? A week? Time made no sense anymore. Nothing did. All he wanted was to curl up before a warm fireplace, showered and fed, a flute glass of Chablis in one hand and Les Misérables in the other. Hell, he'd kill for half a Twinkie and a good foot soak right about now.
A piercing scream brought Bob back to reality. He stared across the parking lot, at the gaping mouth of a woman some forty yards away. She covered her daughter's eyes as she continued to scream. A man appeared nearby, followed by another. Bob thought he heard a voice amid the rising clamor ordering him to put some pants on. He looked down, remembering his state of undress, then back at the growing crowd. Some had phones out, either taking pictures or calling the police, or both.
Bob glanced back at the wilderness from which he'd just emerged. 'To hell with it', he thought, and stood there calmly as he awaited the arrival of the police, ignoring the wide eyes and expletives of the crowd. He'd rather go back to jail for public indecency than get lost in the corn maze again.