Conor didn’t know how he got here. He woke up one morning and found his bed had been replaced with cold hard dirt, and his house with wilderness. It had been a lonely few weeks with silence as his only companion. The longer he stayed here alone the more it seemed like some kind of purgatory.

He salvaged whatever supplies he could, quite alot of things ended up on the beach. Conor never questioned why, he was just thankful for it. However those supplies were now running low. He grabbed the one tool he had salvaged from a small boat wreck, a harpoon. It had proved itself invaluable, and now it was going to help him hunt. Conor Power, great hunter of beasts.

Two hours later he decided that every beast on this Island could go fuck itself. So far he had managed to spear a suspicious bush, miss a furry blur by a few feet and make himself bleed when he dropped the harpoon. So he dejectedly headed to the beach hoping that there was something there.

Then he saw it. Some black shape swimming in the sea, close to the beach too. It was big nearly the size of him. He tied a rope to the end of his harpoon and raised it to throw. He took aim. He threw with all his might and it plunged into the water. There was splashing and the water turned red. He was so excited he could barely contain it and all it took was one strong pull to get it out of the water.

It was an odd looking fish, its body was a shiny black, almost like rubber. It had some kind of black seaweed on its head that looked alot like hair. It looked as if its tail was spilt in two with two flippers… that was when Conor put the peices together.

‘What the fuck!’ The lady in the wetsuit screamed. Grabbing the harpoon embedded in her shoulder.

Shit!’ Conor said, with his jaw hanging open. She was actually very pretty, apart from the seaweed and blood.

‘Stop staring and help me!’ She ordered. He grabbed her and carried her to her hideout. She lost conscousness about halfway there.

*                                                                      *                                                                              *                                                    

He had wrapped and cleaned the wound, he had even picked the seaweed out of her hair. Thankfully the harpoon had hit her in the shoulder so there was no major organs hit. It was just his luck though. The first person he had seen in months was a beautiful woman who he had penetrated. Not in the good way either. She opened her eyes and looked at him with blinding indifferance.

‘You are an idiot.’ She said simply.

‘You’re fine quit complaining.’ He answered grumpily

‘Attempted murder is a reasonable complaint.’ She said.

‘Manslaughter at best.’ Conor said pouting. He handed her a warm can of lilt. She looked at it with disgust.

‘Surely water would be better?’ She asked

‘Sugar will do you good.’ He explained. She reluctantly took the tin and took a swallow. Her face screwed up at first taste. ‘Don’t worry its just like that because its warm.’ He waited a moment until she tried another swallow. ‘and expired.’ He added. She looked at him with murder in her eyes. ‘Joking. I dunno if it’s in date or not. lost track of time in here.’ He said seriously. she looked at him with genuine concern for the first time.

‘Have you been here alone?’ She asked

‘It’s been weeks, months maybe.’ He answered. She was stunned into silence, that seemed horrible, then again this man did stab her. ‘I’ll go get us some food.’ he said leaving. For the first time she looked at him with a sympathy and the beginnings of affection.

*                                                                      *                                                                              *      

 Conor had hoped that someone else to talk to would have made the hellish Island more barable but it just turned out to be one more mouth to feed. He had some tinned soup- that he was keeping that he had to break out. He heated it and served it to her. She ate hungrily without thanks, as usual. It didn’t take her long to finish it, silently. She still didn’t thank him. Instead she picked up a small golden wrapper and looked at it quizically.

‘Ferrero Rocher?’ She asked him.

‘Yeah?’ He answered a little confused.

‘They look and taste like squirell shit.’ She stated. He was hardly surprised to hear her say something else negative.

‘I hadn’t eaten in days when I found them. I’d have eaten squirell shit  to stop the hunger pains.’ He answered with a faint tone of anger. She looked guilty.

‘I…’ She seemed like she was about to apologise then she saw the bandage and her face became a less soft. ‘I’m Jessica.’ She said, offering her good hand.

‘Conor.’ he said taking it. The rest of the day passed more pleasantly.

*                                                                      *                                                                              *      

The days were uncomfortably hot but the nights were almost freezing. Jessica woke up with a chill even through her shabby blankets. The cold was peircing. She wrapped herself in the blankets even tighter. Her anger was rekindled. She, like Conor, didn’t know how she came to be here but it was his fault she was in pain and trapped in this bed.

She looked around to find him and throw her scorn at him. She couldn’t see him at first glance. When she looked around more carefully she saw him. He was crumpled at the foot of the bed with no blanket of his own and nothing but his dirty, torn clothes to protect him from the cold. An icy wind blew and he shivered involuntarily and wrapped his arms around himself. Jessica’s heart melted.

*                                                                      *                                                                              *      

Conor woke up the next day feeling half frozen. He had never been so glad of the blistering heat that invaded his hideout.

‘You’re finally up.’ She said. He wasn’t sure if she was being cheeky or he was just frustrated from his poor sleep but he finally snapped at her.

‘I’m sorry I hit you but doesn’t give you the right to act like an ungrateful bitch.’ He moaned. To his shock Jessica stood and advanced on him. She seized him by the shirt. He closed his eyes and prepared to be assaulted. Her head moved towards him. Then they kissed. It was gentle at first, then more passionatly, eventually they kissed so hard it hurt. She pulled away looking embarassed.

‘Thank you. I don’t mean to say horrible things to you.’ She said.

From that moment on the Island turned from Purgatory to Paradise.


PS: Questions by Conor Power

Genre: Romcom

Time period:1940s

Location: The Island from Lost

Objects:Harpoon ,Tin of lilt, ferrero Rocher wrapper



One comment

  1. That was a great read, never knew I was such a stud!
    The only issue is with the details in which I provided, Ferrero Rochers did not cease to exist until 1982..that’s my bad. Great work, beautiful twists

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