Only three of us made it out of the plane before drowning,
burning, or both.
Three was better than two, obviously, but I only spoke English,
while the other guy only spoke French, and she spoke… Finnish? Icelandish? I
couldn’t tell. And given that our ability to communicate rested mostly on
gestures, she couldn’t tell me.
We must have drifted there for at least a week, until
finally she sidled up to me and made a finger into a hole repeatedly gesture.
I was dumping his body overboard when she started crying, when
I realise she didn’t mean ‘stab him’.
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