Stranded Part II


Day Ninety-one.

I hear the noise of an engine over the surf. I see a light bouncing up and down as it crashes through the surf.

I can’t believe my eyes. Have I finally succumbed to madness?

I watch a battered jetski arrive, not far from my makeshift camp.

At last! I’ve been rescued!

The driver, a Rastafarian, rummages in his backpack. “Ya gotta sign ‘ere, mon,” he demands. “Cash or Debit Cay-ard?”

I sign and hand over my visa.

He turns to leave.

“Wait! Aren’t you rescuing me?”

“Sorry, mon. Ma insurance doesn’t cover no passengers, mon:- Company policy!”

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