Paradise (Part 4)
July 23rd, 2020
Starring: The Survivor
The island. It’s the same island as months before, but different. Above the beach, a large section of the brush, trees, etc., are gone. In that fresh grassy patch, a row of small plants, beginning to grow. We find The Survivor digging another plant hole with some whittled stick tool. They stop, wiping their brow, coming down to the beach.
THE SURVIVOR
I’ve been busy.
To be honest, I’m a bit worried to divulge too much. I’d never want to talk too much before the work’s done.
But it’s been quite some time. So I should say something.
…
Every morning, for what seemed like a long time, I climbed my tree and cracked open a fresh coconut. It was my favorite thing. A little bit of consistency. A purpose to wake up.
But then one day, on a morning I expected everything to be the same, it wasn’t.
The coconut was nasty. I’ve never had a nasty coconut from my tree.
So I cracked open another one, and it too was nasty.
So then a third, which was nastier than the ones before it.
Then I realized my coconuts weren’t the problem. It was me. My taste buds had had enough.
“No more,” they said.
I saw then that I was wallowing. Waiting. I had become so fixated on waiting for my life to return to something it clearly was never going to be. I had to give in to the world that is, the one right in front me.
So I said, no more.
...
I cut down the palm trees. So went the coconuts.
Then the brushes, and the bushes, then the weeds. A clean slate.
I spear fish now. I’m planting some crops. With the wood I chopped, I’m building a place I can actually call home.
And someday, maybe a home to others.
Off the beach, a dock, maybe for a dinghy or a schooner or a cruise ship.
Past my field, there’ll be a little grocery, or even a post office. Maybe even a room or two to rent. A little town, population one.
…
But now I’ve talked too much. I’m not even close.
But
But you see it right? You see how it could work?
I don’t know.
I do.