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I was on an island hardly know to men, wandering aimlessly amongst the wilderness. And i have been enjoying enough of nature’s beauty and offerings. Too much of anything is bad. I just wanted to get back to my own concrete jungle.
It had been a week since my ship wrecked and ironically i am the sole survivor of the great ‘Magnolia’. Since, i have read Robinson Crusoe and also watched Zemeckis’s ‘Cast Away’, i managed to survive on imitated instincts.
Can’t somebody save me, so that i can tell a high tale of disaster and survival. Wonder what the media is portraying about the wreck????? All on board are dead and submerged!!!! No, you fools, i am alive!!!!!!!!
I walked bare foot among the coconut trees, my staple diet providers since i landed on the beautiful cursed island and finally reached the beach. Hope is one thing i didn’t wanna leave. It was my daily ritual to walk to the beach and check for any responses to my SOS pattern i made on the shore.
None had come and may never come, but i can’t give up. I stood at the shore, the gentle waves touching my bare feet, while i looked across the never ending ocean which was responsible for all those disappearances.
Ancient people called it the work of the devil. Modern and educated minds called it the BERMUDA TRIANGLE.