The outside is nice. The sea is quite calm, its deep sea-green in start contrast with the warm gold of the sands.
There are however no other islands on the horizon, nor any sign of a boat; least of shifting or linking, I’m stuck here. Luckily enough there is an outhouse nearby, on the backside of the island.
Actually, more than an island it’s an islet, or a cay; it’s barely bigger than the cave and a couple hundred meters of beach all around with the high tide.
A small rocky path leads up to a plateau on top of the cave, where a few bushes and some shy twisted trees grow. Whoever lived here either survived of fish and seafood, or was able to get other commodities elsewhere. I doubt there was enough wood here to build everything that’s in the house, even in better times.
(continues in next post)