The Journal Continues …

Journal — Day three:   The natives continue to war furiously with one another.  They bedevil me with evidence of their nightly raids, leaving their litter across every corner of this tragic little island.  I cower in my tent, tossing cookies at the beasts with waning hopes of satisfying their bottomless appetites.  I’ll try to sneak out tomorrow to build a signal fire on the far side of the island.  If captured, I can only hope my demise will be swift and sure, these words somehow found to serve as evidence of my torturous existence in the midst of such savage surroundings.

Oh, look!  Is that a glass of Chardonnay in my hand?  Perhaps this isn’t such a bad place after all.


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