Pegman sailed us to Pitcairn Island today. Usually, I don’t read other writer’s stories before I write mine, but I read k rawson’s wee tale on a whim. So I’m sorry that Deliverance Redux follows in her story’s footsteps. I just couldn’t help it!
We don’t particularly likes it much when strangers tromp upon our island. Take this feller for instance, all set up with his little blue fishin box and fancy catchin pole. Round here, strangers stick out like pups born in the wrong litter. Nones of us wears them kinda clothes nor hats such as the one he’s clamped over his hair. Straw, that’s what we likes upon our heads. Don’t much admire his boots neither. Gots to have sandals strapped to the feets so’s you can feel them itchy sand kernels between your toes. Otherwise, you can’t figger where you is. Don’t knows xactly how he found our scrap of paradise but I reckon he won’t be stayin long. Billy Bets’ll see to that. Yep. He’ll wander on down there, talk a spell. For you can say, “Let’s have us a bar-be-cue,” there’ll be fresh meat for the grill.
