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January 31, 2008

Tanya: Untitled

“Sam. Sam, look.”

“Let me be. It’s nothing. Another mirage.”

“No. It’s real,” he rasped.

Sam raised his burning head, and glanced at the horizon. Mac was right. A ship.

They had drifted for ages, it must have been months, after the boat’s engine had failed in a storm. Subsisting on whatever fish they could catch, and collecting rainwater in coolers, they had waited and prayed. They were malnourished, dehydrated, and blistered by the blazing sun. And now they were rescued.

Without speaking, they tied the anchor to Rick’s gnawed body, and pushed it overboard. Then they fired the flares.

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