Ben Aultowski

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I haven’t slept for two days. My skin is white, and even my wrinkles have wrinkles. My hair sits dripping and tangled on my head. Fish scales cling to me like ornamental slivers of nail polish. With a gap in the middle of my smile, I must be quite a mess, a real hag. Well, we rafties can’t be at our charming best all of the time.
Adrift: Seventy-Six Days Lost at Sea
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