There had been so many jokes about it—what would you bring to a deserted island? Who would you want with you there? What food would you miss most? What cd would you play over and over again? And etc. The questions floated around the internet, across drunken nights and through friends like little pebbles bouncing their way down a river.
Emily had one thing and one thing alone. It was her copy of Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha, speckled with chicken scratchings and flashes of pink highlighter from her college days. The corners were tattered, and there was a coffee stain on the inside cover from the time she loaned it to a boy she was dating. It reminded her of late nights discussing topics in Nihilism with her study group at the Burger King down the street from her apartment.She packed it specifically in case this cruise would unexpectedly land her on a deserted island. And surprisingly, here she was, feeling fully prepared for the journey ahead.
***Multi-layered and thoughtful.***
Friday, September 28, 2007
~DESERT ISLAND by Diane~
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3 comments:
Dear Kat,
Lucky for us both that I found a bottle. Yeah, I'm pretty funny. A message in a bottle would probably get to you faster than one sent by mail around here. First the donkey has to carry it over the mountain, if you catch my drift.
I'm working hard. Don't be fooled. They didn't send me to paradise to mess around. After an 8-hour work day, I don't have much energy for that.
I know what you're thinking. Of course I mess around on the weekends. Of course I do. I know exactly what you're thinking. You want to know what she looks like, if she's taller than you, or thinner, or prettier. I wouldn't tell you anyway. It would ruin your imagination.
It's better not to know, I promise you. I know from experience. I know because it only bothered me a little, until that day I saw you in Cafe Nuevo, in the back booth, legs entangled, eyes locked.
It's better for both of us not to know.
~Derek
Postcard
Jeff,
Too bad you didn't follow through and come with me on vacation. Too bad you didn't follow through and come with me through life.
Having a great time! Don't wish you were here!
Maggie
DESERT ISLAND
There had been so many jokes about it—what would you bring to a deserted island? Who would you want with you there? What food would you miss most? What cd would you play over and over again? And etc. The questions floated around the internet, across drunken nights and through friends like little pebbles bouncing their way down a river.
Emily had one thing and one thing alone. It was her copy of Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha, speckled with chicken scratchings and flashes of pink highlighter from her college days. The corners were tattered, and there was a coffee stain on the inside cover from the time she loaned it to a boy she was dating. It reminded her of late nights discussing topics in Nihilism with her study group at the Burger King down the street from her apartment.
She packed it specifically in case this cruise would unexpectedly land her on a deserted island. And surprisingly, here she was, feeling fully prepared for the journey ahead.
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