It’s been a long week on this island.
At times, i’ve been comforted by my Desert Island Survival Songs and the unique beauty of a tropical setting. But there’s only so much coconut one person can take. And there’s only so much campfire acapella two people can perform before you just really start to feel sorry for the wildlife.
Yes, that’s right, there are two of us now.
Two days ago I was nakedly minding my own business when I noticed a whale-like silhouette on the horizon. I was pretty excited at first, but Wilson curtly reminded me that I don’t have the prerequisite whimsy or gills for whale-riding. A kill-joy, that Wilson.
So I went about my day, brooding, coconut hoarding, hunting small animals and boogying in the night time. As the last chorus of Dreadlock Holiday faded with the wilting dusk, the whale was nowhere to be seen. Whatever, I thought. He would be back with the sunrise to taunt me further (Wilson and the Whale were obviously in cahoots.)
But instead of waking to a whale, or the beautiful sound of Whitacre’s Allelulia, I woke to the savage face of Magpie come to end my life. Soaked and sunburnt, she pinned me down and beat me with a ball of makeshift yarn. I was certain that she had gone mad.
But the force of her blows promptly gave way to anguished tears. “I just want some meat,” she sobbed.
So I cooked her up some chargrilled toucan and we talked shit out.
Turns out Magpie has also been stuck on a desert island this week, with four songs to get her through the long days. Her island was smaller though, and devoid of animals, so she has had to survive on insects, berries and coconuts. I fear in her position I might’ve gone mad, but the cunning Magpie used her textile knowledge to fashion a raft.
Reunited, we have shared our desert island survival songs:
Despite such fantastic choices, Magpie has changed. She made me get rid of Wilson, so I threw him in to the sea in the hope that his superior whimsy would grant him a whale. When I asked her to reflect on her time here, all she said was that she’s a lot more tan than she used to be, and more inclined to strange food.
I hope that Magpie and I’s friendship can survive rescue. In our dehydrated states we agree on very little but have managed to reach consensus with our final desert island survival song:
Praying for rescue.
Peachy (with Magpie) x