My eyelids lift at the sound of sloshing ocean. My jaw pulses. A large lump on my right cheek feels like a throbbing mountain to even my slightest touch. Feels like I've been punched in the stomach, repeatedly. I raise my Hawaiian-style shirt to the sight of crimson bruises and lower it to discover droplets of blood staining the floral pattern. It's from my nose.

The passenger's luggage now looks like junk after the collision -- lots of clothes, several briefcases, papers, food and cans, even a few musical instruments, distributed to the trees, sand, and lapping tides.

Some of the fuselage rests in the forest tops, straggled along the canopy, hanging like ornaments in the tall verdure.

"Hey stranger," I hear Kendra's voice, shockingly seconds after turning to check things out.

I gesture with my eyes about our solitude, wiping my nose with the shirt. Since it's already bloody. "Where is everyone?" The pain in my jaw restricts me from asking more. I want to ask why she is unscathed. How did we survive? I assume we landed safely. Did the plane explode after from the fire?

“Life rafts took the other passengers to sea,'' she explains, losing her flicker of optimism she previously held from the sight of me.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)