Mr. Robinson

by Paul de Denus

At times I don't mind being so alone. It's eye opening, this break from the world, from the rat race and responsibility that accompanies it. I certainly don't miss the humdrum of work, the noise and pace, the treadmill routine. In some ways, I find it a blessing.


Don't get me wrong. I do miss you and the kids. How could I not? I do wish to be home but honestly, I'm sometimes overwhelmed by the beautiful solitude of my surroundings. I find it's all I need. Not that I don't miss my comforts - the hot meals, warm showers, and our bed, even with the kids bouncing about. I hope you are all okay and not too worried.


I'll admit it can be boring but each day I find something useful to do. I need to be prepared. I've been working out. I've lost about fifteen pounds. That beer gut you used to tease me about is gone. Oh but what I wouldn't do for a cold one right now.


I send out messages everyday, scribbles on scrapes of paper from several travel magazines that washed ashore. I stuff them in empty water bottles I salvaged from the plane before it went down. Maybe a passing freighter will find them, figure out where I am and find this beautiful dot in the Arafura Sea. Until then I'm a regular Robinson Crusoe, thinking of home and pondering my future.