“We are all shipwrecked. All castaways.” I took a few steps forward, toward the boat launch and the edge of the dock. I dug my hands in my pockets and then turned, my eyes meeting hers. “One day, we all wake on the beach, our heads caked with sand, sea foam stinging our eyes, fiddler crabs picking at our noses, and the taste of salt caked on our lips.” I turned slightly, glancing up at the shadow of Annie’s frail frame swinging gently in the hammock, rocked by the wind. “And, like it or not, it is there that we realize we are all in need of Friday to come rescue us off this island, because we
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