It has been exactly 836 days since our shipwreck, that left us on this remote island, somewhere west of Hawaii. In that time, we haven’t heard or seen anything from the civilized world. We are here, completely alone. Left to our own demise. I think we have done all right, so far. We have food to go around, we have clean water, and shelter to protect us from the weather. We even have our own justice system. A fairly simple one, granted, but it works. Basically, when someone does something that the tribe cannot forgive, they are sent out in one of the lifeboats, or a homemade raft, to look for help. The idea is that you redeem yourself, with the tribe, by bringing back a rescue team, or you die trying. Simple. Fair. Easy to remember. The only issue is that I’m currently on trial for stealing fruit from the community stock. Honestly, I have been sneaking the odd apple or banana now and again, but in the greater scheme of things, I’m sure it makes no difference.

There is great debate among the others on what to do. Some want to set an example, to show that stealing food is not tolerated. Others want to send me out to sea, because ‘Stealing food is attempted murder on the entire tribe’. A few want to pardon me, for the relatively small crime. In the end it comes down to the majority ruling. And as expected, one of the last few lifeboats are soon prepared on the beach. They pack it with food and water for about three or four days. They also put in a fishing spear, some rope and some of the spare clothes that are too hot to use on the island. A set of ores are the last thing they put in the boat. Maybe to give me a chance to sail back to Hawaii. Or maybe to make sure I sail away from the island.

It is an early Friday morning. The sun is only just crawling over the horizon, throwing all manners of colourful lights on the beach. I check my gear one last time and say my goodbyes to the few people I ever talked to on the island. Before long I’m in the boat and a few of the other men are pushing it off the beach. They push the boat out far after it cleared the beach sand. They only stop pushing, when I start to row, and they can’t keep up anymore.

The little boat is rocking gently on the ocean water. I suppose the ocean will be far less gentle when I get further out, but for now it’s a nice, easy ride. I make sure not to expend all my energy at once. I have a long trip ahead of me, so I decide to take it easy. I do want to get as far away from this island as I can, but I also know that rowing like a mad man on the first day, will come back and bite me like an angry chihuahua later on.

I row for about two or three hours. It’s hard to keep track of time out here. My arms are starting to get tired, and the repetitive motion is starting to hurt my shoulders. I can still see the island, but it already looks really small from here. As I’m taking a break from rowing, I realize that there are so many things out here that could potentially be dangerous to me and my boat. There are definitely sharks in these waters, so taking a swim might not be the best idea. The weather could pick up in a matter of minutes. Right now, it’s still calm as a Hindu cow on a Sunday, but thunderstorms are not too rare on this part of the map. There might also be giant squids or seamonsters hiding in the deep, dark ocean beneath me. It is hard to say what secrets the ocean keeps.

The water is fairly clear still, but light only penetrates the first few feet down. After that it is pitch black. I’ve run out of scary things to think of already. Which immediately sparks the next scary thought: The thing on this boat that is most likely to kill me, is boredom.

I can’t eat or drink to pass the time, as I would have back home in my apartment. The food and water I have are scarce and needs to be rationed properly to last me as long as possible. I have no books to read here, and It’s not like I can go for a walk. The only things I can do are fishing and rowing. Both get old, really fast.

The first day on the boat goes by slowly, and the night just the same. I wake up and the sun is already over the waterline far out to the east. I sit up and look around. There is still not much to see in the boat or around it. The water is still calm, the boat is still small and boring. I pick up the ores and start to row again. My arms are sore from yesterday, and it is not very motivating to row, when you have no reference points left. I can feel that I move the boat through the water, but I can’t see that I am making progress, since there is only water all the way around me.

After a while I decide to try out fishing with the spear. I was never really good at that, but now it is my only way to get fresh food. I hang over the side of the boat with the spear up, ready to strike. I see no fish in the water. No sharks or giant squid either. There is literally no life in the water around my boat. I’m hanging like this hopelessly waiting for something to swim by for what feels like hours. I thought rowing made my arms tired, but after holding the spear ready over my hear for so long, I realise that rowing is the easiest of my two jobs on the boat.

Throughout the day I eat only exactly what is necessary to not die. With no luck fishing, my food stock seems to dwindle faster than I like. As for water, there is no way to replenish that supply. I could drink sea water, but the salt content of that would be higher than that of my pee, meaning my body would have to spend water diluting the sea water before letting it back out. And drinking my own pee is not an option. That’s just too gross.

The second night, the third day, the third night and the fourth day all seem to blend together. Rowing. Fishing. Sleeping. Rowing. Fishing. Sleeping. I swear if the sharks don’t get me soon the loonies will.

Late on the fourth day I run out of food. I only have about a cup of water left, and I haven’t had any luck fishing, yet. I can’t say my hopes are very high at this point. I will most likely die on the stupid boat within a day or two. For stealing a few apples. I decide to go to sleep early tonight. It’s not like there’s much else to do.

I’m rowing my boat over the flat ocean water, when suddenly I find myself going into a drive-through at a fastfood restaurante. That in itself is a little odd, but when I come up to the window to get my food (That I don’t remember ordering), a shark is wearing a chef’s hat, sitting at the window. I stare at the shark for a good long while, from the discomfort of my boat, before finally asking it for my food. The shark looks me dead in the eyes and says ”Sorry, ate it.” then slams the window shut. In my hunger and frustration, I decide to just keep rowing. Away from the rude shark, and away from the restaurant in the middle of the ocean. I row and row, and the sun rises and sets fifteen times, before I take a break. As I look back where I just was, I realize I havent moved anywhere at all. The drivethrough is still right behind me, less then a boats length away. I panic and throw one of my ores at the building, but amazingly it misses, and lands in the water instead. Feeling horribly impotent I do something I haven’t done, since I embarked on this crazy adventure: I jump in the water. It doesn’t feel cold, as I would have expected. And as it turns out, I can breathe under water too. After a few minutes of diving deeper and deeper, my biggest fear is realized. A giant squid swims up from the deep darkness and wraps its arms around me, squeezing the air out of my lungs, like I was some plush toy.

I jerk awake and sit up abruptly in the boat. Nightmares. Just what I need for my trip. Having to row even in my sleep, only to get eaten by imaginary giant squids. The sun is coming up once again. I realize it is still only day five on the boat, and I’m absolutely losing my marbles. I drink the last of my water. What a breakfast. Now there is truly only rowing left in the world. I pick up the ores, disheartened, tired, hungry. Just as I’m about to start rowing, I hear something odd behind me. It almost sounds like a small engine. I turn around and see a small dinghy racing over the water straight towards me. I can’t believe my own eyes. I must still be dreaming. I put down my ores and turn to face the strange boat. I still don’t believe it is real, and I fully expect it to come closer and turn out to be a cloud or wave or something like that. As the dinghy comes to a stop next to mine, the driver looks at me confused. “Hello mister. What are you doing out here? You really shouldn’t row this far off the islands”. I clumsily crawl over to his boat. I grab his arm to make sure he is actually real. I even slap myself. When I look at the man again, I’m seeing spots as well. I might have slapped myself too hard. I gather my thoughts and explain to him that I was on a cruise ship that wrecked over two years ago. It takes a while to convince him, but when I tell him the name of the cruise liner, he suddenly remembers the news articles about it disappearing. He gives me water and a chocolate bar. It’s the only food he has on the dinghy, and I tell him about my rowing trip. After a while he asks me if there are other survivors from the wreck. He wants to send the coast guard out looking for them.

I look into the horizon far west. This is my chance to redeem myself with the tribe. Clear my name of my crimes. Save hundreds of people from that miserable, primitive island. After considering it for a bit I turn to the man on the dinghy. “No. I was the last survivor. There’s no one else left.”

Written 09/02-2021

The bell chimes through the long, wide halls and reaches every office. Everyone wraps up what they are doing as the coffee break starts. A small group of co-workers meet up under the big, old trainyard clock in the foyer. They talk cheerily for a few minutes while a few more of their colleagues join the group. When everyone is there, they leave the large, white office building and stroll down the street, talking about the beautiful weather. The bright summer weather is inspiring the local songbirds to fill the air with the most beautiful tunes and songs. The small trees along the road are blossoming with a spectacular array of colours, ranging from bright pink to deep green and warm yellows. The fragrance of the many flowers and trees gently blend with the aroma of freshly baked bread from the bakeshop. Further down the street a few kids on summer break are playing hopscotch and laughing ecstatically.

As the group finds their way to the coffee shop, they talk about all the interesting art the coffee shop has. It is a fairly large shop with a big glass facade presenting the odd sculptures and cosy little tables to the street outside. In front of the shop are a few small wooden tables with cute little chairs, each with its own decorative carvings. Some talented artist has spent countless hours perfecting his woodcraft to create these interesting shapes and images in the furniture that is now matching the look and feel of the shop so perfectly.

The group enters the shop to find more of the curious and intriguing art. One wall is covered in paintings by local, upcoming artists. A section of wall has dozens of embroidered wall hangings, in various shapes, sizes and colour pallets. Behind the counter is a range of framed photos taken in the local city and parks, by customers, throughout the years and at different seasons. A young woman with ocean blue eyes, and wavy chestnut-brown hair hanging playfully over her shoulder is ready to take the coffee orders of the group. Her eyes are kind and friendly and her smile makes her feel very familiar, even to people who have never met her before.

The group orders their coffees and continue admiring the art in the coffeeshop while the young barista prepares the coffees. She works with incredible precision and professionalism, while still smiling and even humming along to the gentle music from the vintage radio in the back of the shop. A few minutes later the coffees are ready, and the group gathers outside the shop, to sit in the sun and enjoy the rest of their break in the warm summer breeze.

While the group is sipping their coffees, a busy little bee is humming joyfully. It lands on a flower to collect the sweet, sweet nectar to bring back to the hive in the park. For several minutes the bee hums from one pretty flower to the next, before finally taking flight and setting course towards the park with its loot.

Just like the bee returned to the hive, so must the group return to the office, as the coffee break is coming to an end.

Written 01/03-2021