open

[disingenuous]

[It came as a shock when more than a couple days went by and no rescuers could be seen. Adelle supposes it's good that there's some kind of fresh water source, but living off of coconuts and mangoes is getting so old and tired.

When are people going to come for them? She wants off this island!

For the moment, though, after making sure no one was around, she's changed into her bathing suit and is reclined on the beach. She might as well get an even tan while she's here, if it's the only thing she can get out of it.

Fiddling with her iPod, which still miraculously works, she vents her feelings on Angry Birds. Sighing, she whines:] When will we get off this stupid island?

[Open]

[waniandmoon]

Vincent is trying desperately not to lose hope, but he has the tired feeling that he's fighting a losing battle.

Rescue should have arrived by now.

He's reading his text messages again, sitting on the beach, just at the edge of the forest. He's been careful to try and conserve power in his phone, turning it on only once in a while on the impossible chance that he will get a signal.

There is never a signal.

He's probably memorized the last few conversations he's had with anyone of emotional importance, and he knows he's just torturing himself rereading them. He wonders what the queue of messages will look like if -- no, when -- they are rescued and returned to civilization.

With a sigh, he drops the phone onto the sand and stares up at the irritatingly empty sky, as if through sheer will power he can imagine a rescue plane into being.