Bird calls wake me up and I don't know if it's some sort of mating call, or if one has lost it's companions and is screaming out. I feel that. Answer back. Answer back!
The water is cool and I am watching the pink sky. It will be night soon, and the water will be cold but I don't think it will get to freezing. I really don't know this part of the world though. I have been laying here for a while but who is to say how long? I don't know. I'm surprised I'm not dead yet. I'm very dehydrated. They say a person cast adrift in the ocean is surrounded by water they cannot drink. The same is true for landing in a swamp and breaking your back. I can still use one of my hands, and I could in theory, scoop water to my mouth, but it's a swamp, and probably teeming with ameobas and other nasties. It's good to focus on that. It prevents me from thinking about the other more obvious ways I will probably die, lying here.
The bird has stopped crying. Did it find what it wanted? Did it give up? Was the distress all in the bird's head? Or was it eaten by something while I was contemplating my own mortality. Parachute fabric is flapping above me, impaled on the branches of a dead tree. God that's annoying. It's picked up since I woke up. Maybe there will be a change in the weather. Rain or something. That'd be fantastic. Although, although, although I could get some water. Now it probably won't rain. Also, why are all the trees dead? What happened here? Clearly the water level was lower at some point recently, or they would not have grown at all. You never really hear what happens to inland swamps whenever they talk about climate change.
They. The last face I saw was someone on the ground crew. I've seen him around, but never bothered to learn his name. Now his face will haunt me. Well, for the few days, max, that I have left if they can't find me. God, everyone must think I'm a terrible asshole. I'm just an introvert though. It's too much work to gladhand everyone. But maybe I should have talked to him. The ground crew are valuable people.
I'm tired.
Ughueh! Oh my god. Something just crawled over my mouth. Woke me up. Amphibious, or at least, very wet. It's gone. Grateful for that working hand. I should get somewhere less wet, it's not impossible. There's just nothing. And I need to stay by the parachute. Otherwise they won't be able to find me. If they are looking. There's just...
"Talk to me."
What? I can't see anything in the dark. No moon tonight.
"Talk to me."
"I'm here! I'm here!"
Nothing. Silence. I force myself wider awake. There's the gentle water sounds of the swamp. Methane slowly escaping from the decayed matter below I guess. There's a hint of that smell at least.
That damn bird cries out again. That was it. My brain must have applied human meaning to it. 'Talk to me' is probably what the bird meant. Interesting.
I want to cry. I will cry. Just here. Just for now.
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