The mast of the shipwreck that brought me here countless days ago, fell and crashed upon the breaking waves, as the sun rose above the mountainous cliffside. I see the water sparkle in the sunlight, the coral clearly visible through the near invisible ocean. A fish swam between the coral, unaware of my presence. My food for the day. The spear left my hand, piercing the fish straight through its back, one of the many skills i had become to learn to survive on this island. I set about collecting the fish, retrieving my spear and lighting a fire.
This was my daily business, a second nature now. I wait for my fire to heat to a suitable temperature for cooking, I admire the scenery of my island. The mountainous cliffs, overflowed with greenery, trees and bright flowers that seemed to emerge almost daily. A family of birds flew from their nest high up in the canopy, flapping their brilliant blue, red and yellow feathers. All of a sudden, I could smell smoke. Not the smoke from my fire, as that had burned to embers. the adrenaline was released instantly, I spun around to see the volcano i had thought to be inactive.
The smoke seemed to rise like an ancient god. I thought nothing of it, assuming it was nothing to be worried about. That night as I lay in my makeshift bed, in my makeshift shelter, I thought about that volcano. But that quickly changed, into the night of the shipwreck. I could hear the creaking of the hull coming from the trees, the tiny splashes of the waves on the shore began to sound like huge 10 foot waves crashing overboard. The birdsong turned into screams of other passengers, falling overboard to the awaiting sharks below. I thought about the ship, the huge cruise ship, sitting, rusting away on the west coastline. It was no longer a cruise ship, now nothing more than a huge, rusted graveyard.
The next morning, as I awoke, I grabbed my