Today Kat and I are flying from Toronto to Montego Bay, Jamaica. So I thought it would be fitting for today's prompt to be: the island.
Note: I'm away on my honeymoon so this is a scheduled post.
On the first day he walked from the south coast to the north coast, through thick jungle that was brimming with the scent of exotic flowers. It took him two hours, and mosquitoes were his constant companions.
On the second day he went east to west. Even with a large hill to drag himself over it only took an hour. The mosquitoes were still glad to see him.
On the third day he traveled around the circumference of the island and the sand flies welcomed him with open jaws. Walking barefoot in soft white sand, devoid of any shelter from the sun's silent gaze, he became disoriented.
It wasn't until just before sunset when he thought he recognized his starting point, though by then every stretch of beach looked the same to him. He lay down in the sand and fell into a sleep filled with hallucinogenic visions and angry voices.
On the fourth day men in rescue boats found him and brought him back to their ship.
On the fifth day, still in the grips of the island's madness, he slaughtered them all.
On the sixth day the ship, with no one at the helm, ran aground on the island. The man began walking again.