The helicopter is not far from the shore now and we wade into the water yelling and screaming for all we are worth. On the island behind us there are the words “SOS” written in kelp and a blazing fire, but all the same it is still a lucky chance they would find us. We have been here on the island more than three months after the plane crash, and all that time we have been living off the wild fruit that grows here and the streams that flow across the island. If anyone had come here they would also see in the jungle a hut that me and my dad made. We also made the fire on the beach from the empty coke bottles in the plane using them like how people use magnifying glasses and paper. As my mother leaps from the rescue helicopter and throws her arm around me I know it’s time to go home, but i’ll miss this place.
I like your use of description and personal voice in this, Tara. Kind of makes me want to read more about your adventures on the island before the helicopter arrived! Have you seen the movie, Castaway? This reminded me of that.
ReplyDeleteHi Tara! One of your strengths as a writer is adding descriptive detail and like Shirley, it makes me want to read more? Have you thought about sharing your writing about taking the dog for a walk?
ReplyDelete