I see a blur of red bobbing in the horizon. I’m sitting, alone, in a life raft in the middle of the ocean. Supplies are dangerously low. How hard is it to catch a sea gull? Can you eat a sea gull? I’ve read people drink their own urine in survival situations.
I haven’t peed in two days…
While you are there, check out my post card:
My dear Wigleaf —
I worry, some days, that I don’t even belong in the wild west. I’ve never circled the wagons. I don’t even have a wagon, can’t afford it, they aren’t cheap. Cattle rustling? A job for quicker cowgirls…
- Before the Ceiling Collapses by Carlotta Eden
- Five, Ten, Fifteen, Twenty by Marta Evans
- To Carthage Then We Came by Wells Woodman