The Survivor

Remember those shipwrecks? Guess what? They sank. Down to the bottom. Nearly killed myself trying to swim there. Who gives a rip? The bottom was like Swiss cheese after that unfortunate storm. All holed and whatnot. I'd already taken off anything that was worth taking. Four gallons of water. A sewing kit. A first-aid kit. This book I'm writing in, which I can guesstimate is supposed to be a lifeboat inspection log. That's a laugh. Whoever heard of a lifeboat with no FOOD on it? No food, but plenty of water. Oh, yes, two knives, one dull and one fairly sharp, one combination fork and spoon. I'll use them when I eat my supper tonight. Roast rock. Ha-ha. I was never to sharp in humor. I left that to my friend Pinkie Pie. Oh, I miss my friends. I'm actually horrified I forgot all about them until now. But, well, that's what happens. I need to survive, and that's all.

When I get off this pile of guano-splattered rock, I'll embrace them with a big group hug. That alone is worth living for. And I am going to live. I'm going to get out of this. Make no mistake about it. I am going to get out of this.

Well it's been a few hours. When I was making my inventory, I forgot one thing: two kilos of pure heroin, worth about 350,000 Bits. I would NEVER use those chemicals, but in case of an emergency, they could be used as a sedative. Oh, but I pray I will never ccome to that point. What am I saying? Survive Twilight, you have to survive!