Following the daily routine, I scratch another mark into the coconut tree. Sixty marks. Sixty days on this god forsaken deserted island.
Breakfast consists of the last of yesterday’s fish, washed down with coconut milk.
I hate fish!
After breakfast, I walk up the hill to scan the ocean, hoping to spot a ship’s sails on the horizon.
Back at the beach, I scratch another note and place it in a bottle – I’m still waiting for the reply to my last one.
It reads: “12” Pepperoni with peppers, large fries and a diet coke. Large tip for prompt delivery.”