At the Writer's Digest website, there is a heck of a weird My Story competition going on. These competitions run every other month or so, offering a simple prompt to finish for the opportunity to get a story published in their magazine. There's no real cash or major award involved with this, but it's a good brain-teasing exercise worth checking out now and then.
This season, WD's contest calls for the following prompt:
Prompt: You’re stranded on a desert island with three items: a coconut, a mask and a dictionary. Write a story of 750 words or fewer that explains how you use these items to help you get off the island.
Holy crap. A coconut...a mask...a dictionary...really?! If you have any ideas, feel free to try it out. Also feel free to visit the website and submit or check out the rules through them. This story is due by April 15th 2013 (yeah, time is short, and I was slacking).
My attempts to make a rational story out of this manifested into the following prose. It's already been submitted, so copying and pasting my spiel here would be futile. Enjoy!
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One week passed since the crash. It kept replaying in my head over and over again, like a never-ending nightmare. It was meant to be a short, simple vacation, but as we crossed the Sargasso Sea, the charter plane’s instruments shorted out without any reason. With a mechanical whine, the engines stopped, and the aircraft began its lethal nosedive into the blue ocean. I leapt out of the craft and parachuted into the sea, but the plane’s pilot failed to make it out in time. I still remember watching the plane smacking into the sea like an egg hitting a stone wall.
Endless hours passed, as I drifted on a piece of flotsam from the destroyed plane. My body turned cold, as the salty water constantly washed over me.
Then, I saw the island, as if it materialized out of nowhere. It must have been a mere mile in diameter, with nothing but rocky mounds, beaches, and a few sparse palm trees. Taking it as a sign, I grudgingly paddled myself toward the island. A swift current and rough surf, brought me to the island’s bronze beach.
For a week, I kept my body and mind busy. I found a crude shelter in a cave. I made fire with the few pieces of wood I could find; rubbing sticks together to produce a flame was far harder and more time consuming than I ever imagined. I caught fish and crabs from the surrounding tidepools to feed myself. For one week, I was surviving adequately.
In time, I resolved to explore deeper inland. I wrapped a single coconut in my shirt, and slung it around my waist, so I could eat it as I explored. Moving away from the comfortable beach, I treaded across the rocky slopes. At the top of the slope, I beheld a giant basin with sloped walls, overgrown with vines and grass. When I saw the thing in the middle of the basin, I realized that this was no natural formation, but an impact crater.
There was a silver saucer-shaped vessel in the middle of the crater. It was standing upright, with half of it embedded in the ground; it had clearly crash-landed that way countless years ago. As smooth, sleek, and pristine as it looked, it had to be extraterrestrial in nature. Curious and enthralled, I dashed toward the vessel.
Walking around the saucer’s perimeter, I eventually happened across a set of bones lying among the grass. The skeleton was small and frail, with a head far too large to be human. Plants and animals had cleaned away the flesh and muscle from the bones long ago. As old as the alien was, I wondered if its ship was responsible for the phenomenon that caused the plane to crash. I wondered how many other planes and ships suffered the same fate.
A silver mask covered the skull. Picking it up, I curiously brought it close to my head. It fit over my face adequately; its cool smooth surface caressed mine and adhered the mask to my face.
Turning to face the flying saucer, I watched in awe its surface became illuminated with glowing blue lights and runes. I realized that the mask was the key to using and operating the craft. I just needed to find a way inside.
The lights formed a square outline of a hatch along the hull. Using my coconut, I bashed against the surface just once. As the coconut’s hard surface hit the side of the ship, the hatch gave in, and I crawled inside.
The insides of the ship were a total mystery to me; there were components and objects scattered all around the gleaming interior that I couldn’t identify or understand. One artifact would help me: a book-like object that translated my English to the aliens’ native language. It would take me weeks more to learn every nuance of the alien’s language, but with diligent research, I mastered the language enough to understand the ship’s computer outputs. Once I knew how to fly the ship, it was a simple matter to lift it off and fly home.
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