Castaway Jace

Having learned the size of the island (a day's hike in circumference), he chose a spot shaded by a rocky outcropping and protected from the wind to make his home. He built a shelter where the trees met the beach. The labor of hoisting foraged sticks and tying posts with peeled bark caused the man to realize how little exercise he must have been getting before he lost his memory. His muscles were flimsy from disuse, and the man wondered again how his prior self had intended to survive here without weapons or tools. He grew stronger as he worked, though, and despite blisters and sunburns, he managed to construct a covered platform upon which to sleep.

Food required a bit more trial and error, but the man was excited to learn what his likes and dislikes were. He fashioned a simple knife from a sharp stone and set about taste-testing. He liked oysters. He liked whatever the orange fruit was. He liked the long green fruit and the small red berries, but not the violet root vegetables. Those made his tongue itchy, which he attributed to a newly discovered allergy. How fascinating!

What he really needed to learn was how to build a fire.

***

He delighted in building new tools. A basket woven from stick, a simple snare, even a sharpened knife to open oysters with. The man set about to make a new tool every day, and took pride in every single one. It was almost fun having endless amounts of time with which to build new solutions to his problems.

***

She followed him from snare to snare, peered over his shoulder as he reset the traps, and glared at him all the while as he carried the lizards he had caught back to camp to cook.

He buried the lizards with hot coals, palm leaves, and root vegetables to cook for the rest of the afternoon. In time, the hallucination vanished, and the man sighed in relief.

He sat for a while, listening to the shorebirds above, and decided to stave off boredom building a bonfire on the beach.

JACE, ALONE