The mouth of the bottle was chipped, that was the part I grabbed, and it sliced into my skin, a fragile, minuscule little cut, but I watched a drop of blood drip from my finger and onto the piece of paper that was wrapped up inside the bottle.
I found a message in a bottle.
The cork was gone, or maybe it was never there. I thought that the message inside would be lost, but when I finally realized I had to smash the bottle on a rock to get the message out, I found that it seemed to be written in blood on a piece of thin cloth, like maybe a men's dress shirt, but it wasn't paper at all.
I unrolled the fragile fabric, gasped at the words.
My Dearest Love,
I know this will never find you, and I know now I will never be found. My boat washed ashore, I am not dead. I am not yet dead.
Please know that whatever happens to me, I loved you. I still love you on this lonely island, you are all I think about, you are all I dream about.
I've built a raft and I am leaving now. I am coming back to you.
Pray for me. I love you.
- J
There is a man somewhere. Maybe he made it home to his dearest love, and maybe he was finally lost forever at sea. Maybe he made it, maybe he was doomed from the start.
And there is a woman somewhere. And she is loved, she is loved, she is loved.
