The following is a piece from a writing group where we're given a prompt and then nine minutes to write whatever comes to mind. Just for fun, I'm posting some of them here:


Prompt: Castaways

Life on the island may not have been ideal, but it wasn't bad. It had been almost six months since they'd been stranded, and though the hunter, chemist, stoner, and carpenter missed their lives back home, all of their basic needs were provided for on the island.

When their lifeboat first washed ashore on this uncharted patch of land, they had been lost at sea for almost a week, and had run out of water. Even in his parched and delirious condition, the chemist was able to quickly get to work building a makeshift distillery using anything he could find on the island. By the following morning, he had desalinated enough seawater to quench their collective thirst.

With only one more day of food rations left, the hunter disappeared into the brush that grew just beyond the beach. Just before sunset she reappeared dragging the body of a wild boar onto the beach. A makeshift spear was slung across her back.

That night it rained. Hard. The four castaways huddled together for warmth, and in the morning, as the rising sun began to dry them off, the carpenter got to work building shelter. Meanwhile, the stoner pulled out her trusty lighter and got a signal fire going. By nightfall, their shelter was sturdy enough to keep out the rain, and the stoner had stoked the fire with enough palm fronds to keep it smoldering through the night.

For six long months they survived. It was hard work, but satisfying to know that if they worked together, they could keep themselves alive indefinitely using only their wits. Every day for eight hours, the chemist distilled seawater into fresh water, the stoner stoked the signal fire, the carpenter built up and maintained the shelter, and the hunter hunted for pigs, chickens, and coconuts. It was hard work to keep up the equilibrium, but with every day they all grew stronger.

Until that one day, when it all came crumbling down.

Late in the morning, the hunter came running out of the jungle, excited and waving her arms. She called out the chemist's name, and told him to come quick. He followed her into the brush, all the way asking what it could be.

“You have to see this,” was all she would say.

Around midday, they pushed their way through the brush and into a clearing. There was a large meadow, filled with tall grass. Through the middle of the meadow a stream cut its way down to the sea.

“Fresh water,” announced the hunter proudly. “We could move our whole camp up into this meadow.”

“Who else knows about this?” asked the chemist.

“What? No one. I just found it. Isn't it wonderful? We don't need to distill seawater anymore!”

The chemist pondered the revelation. “And so what will my contribution be?”

The hunter looked confused. “We can split up the remaining labor. If you spend two hours a day at the fire, two hours working on the shelter, and two hours hunting, we could all work a six-hour day and still have everything we need.”

“But I only know how to distill water,” replied the chemist. “I don't know how to hunt for boar. If I stop contributing, you'll stop sharing your boar meat with me, and I'll perish.” The chemist looked defeated as he thought about the consequences of losing his employment.

“Of course I'll share with you,” the hunter said. “We're in this together!”

But it was too late. The chemist had made up his mind. He picked up a large rock from the ground and advanced towards the hunter, who had turned to scoop up some delicious, cool water from the stream.

That evening the chemist returned to the camp on the beach alone. His arms were full of coconuts.

“Where's the hunter?” asked the stoner, tending to her fire.

“I don't know,” the chemist responded. “I think a boar might have got her.”

“What are we going to do without her?” asked the carpenter.

“We're going to have to start working ten-hour days to pick up the slack,” said the chemist.