Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Word: Skerrick



                

skerrick

[sker-ik]
noun, Australian.
1. a small piece or quantity; a bit: Not even a skerrick of cake was left.

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              Lance wearily dumped the small number of tiny berries onto a leaf and collapsed onto the sand.  The sun beat down on him, but he had long since stopped caring.  It wasn’t like he had any sun block.
                “That’s it?” Wendy asked, looking at the tiny bit of food.
                “Yeah, that’s it.”
                “Please tell me you’re joking.  Please, please tell me you’ve got something else hidden somewhere?”
                “Nope, sorry.  That’s it.”
                Wendy groaned.  The way things were going for them, they wouldn’t last much longer.  The island looked so lush and green, they had thought there wouldn’t be any problems finding food.  And yet, they had quickly found that most of what they saw was inedible. 
                “Can’t you go fishing or something?”
                “There aren’t any.  Not unless we go back out there.”
                Wendy looked out onto the ocean.  It looked calm and peaceful, but she knew otherwise.  After the number of storms the two of them had been through, she had no desire to head back out unless it was something much larger and more stable than their small life raft.
                “Are you sure?” She asked.
                “I’ve looking in all the ponds I could find.  There aren’t any fish in any of them.  Maybe we could try and comb the beach for shellfish, but that’s about it.”
                “Great.  Tiny bits of crab, or tiny bits of berries.  Yay.”
                “It’s better than nothing.” Lance said. 
He didn’t believe his own words.  The tiny portions wouldn’t even be enough for a child, let alone two adults.  The tiny number of berries wouldn’t be nearly enough to hold back starvation.  In fact, it was almost worse than having no food at all, since all it did was remind them of how hungry they were.
“Uh huh.”
They sat in silence, more out of some misguided attempt to conserve energy than anything else.  Neither of them wanted to be out in the hot sun, but they lacked the energy needed to move.  It was a wonder Lance had managed to gather as much as he had.
“You know, I read somewhere that ants and grasshoppers and stuff are edible.” He said eventually.
“Oh god, you’re not seriously suggesting we eat bugs, are you?”
“It’s food.  And it’s just about the only source of it that we know is plentiful.  So yeah, I am suggesting we eat bugs.  We can gather them up and cook them or something.”
“We are not eating bugs.”
“We have to eat something.”
“There has to be something on this island other than bugs and berries to eat.  I mean, there’s got to be birds or something at the very least.”
“I haven’t seen or heard any birds since we got here.  And even if there were, how would we catch them?”
Wendy didn’t answer.  She knew he was right.  They hadn’t seen any wildlife that had less than six legs since they washed up on the island.  It was unsettling who quiet the place was. 
“Okay, fine, we can try it.”  She said with a sigh.
Lance did not look happy with his victory.  They might have had a source of food, but that didn’t mean it would be pleasant.  Plus, the small size of their new food source made them only slightly better than the berries.  But, it was indeed something.  Something that would hopefully see them to their rescue, if it ever came. 
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Getting stuck on an island sounds terrible, especially if there's no food.  With food, it would at least be tolerable for a while, but even then, it'd suck.  Even if you prefer being alone, it'd get to you sooner or later.

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