Desert Island Survival

“Are you sure these are OK to eat?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Best I could find,” he shrugged.
“Maybe, if you look in those bushes, you find some berries or fruits. Maybe?”
“If you don’t know what you’re picking, berries could be poisonous. These, at least, I know are safe.”
“Not sure my stomach can take these maggots.”
“They’re snails.”
“Whatever they’re, they look disgusting!” she said, her face acquired light green shade. “I wish I brought snacks.”
“It’s a desert island survival experience! We must learn to survive in the wild. With what we have. Besides, you don’t have to eat it raw. We can make them into a soup!”
“Something tells me you’re not joking.”
“Of course I’m not! Wait here!” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and disappeared into the greenery. He returned soon carrying a pile of twigs and dry leaves and, producing from the pocket a magnesium fire starter, got to business. Holding her breath, she watched as the hot sparks landed into the makeshift campfire. In a few flicks, little flame began to kindle, slowly growing in size and heat.
“Wow!” she exhaled. “Where did learn to do that?”
He beamed at her but didn’t reply. Disappearing into the trees again he returned with more wood and the old rusted pot filled with water.
“Where did you get that?”
“It washed up onto a shore half a mile from here. And I found a freshwater stream close by!” he declared proudly, fixing the sticks up and hanging the pot over the flame.
When the water boiled, he threw in some dry roots, leaves and finally snails, and an hour later, their feast was ready.

Desert Island Survival

“Ladies first,” he smiled, filling the wooden spoon he whittled just now, with a dark thick substance.
“Is it too late to become vegetarian?” Her lips quivered.
“Don’t be daft! They’re high in protein. It’ll keep you full for longer.”
“I don’t really feel that hungry...maybe you eat first and–,”
“C'mon, Steph, you can do it!” he encouraged.
She braced herself, opened her mouth and squeezed her eyes very tight.
As a saving grace, her mum’s voice came from the neighbouring garden.
“Stephanie! Your lunch is ready!”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, relieved and slightly disappointed. “Sorry, Adam. Have to go.”
“Sure. You will come tomorrow. Right?”
“Of course! Coming, Mum! I liked your Robinson Crusoe game!” Her eyes smiled.
“Thanks.” He blushed, looking at his worn-out trainers.
“Playing with you is much more fun than playing with other boys. David is silly most of the time.”
“Thanks, Steph. You’re pretty cool too. For a girl.”
She smiled, looked away and then leaned forward and awkwardly brushed her lips against his cheek.
“Read more books,” she whispered before she ran away.