closer so she supposed she was going to be washed up on an island any moment now and all would be well once that happened. On she went and indeed she reached a shore not quite of sand but of some other sort of dark and muddy concoction which she couldn’t quite figure out.

She stood up and trudged towards the stripey pole beacon with the flame burning on top up ahead. Some sort of beacon for those lost at sea just like herself. She walked towards it with some purpose. As she walked towards it she saw that there were more beacons, nine in total, all alight, in a circular formation and, no it couldn’t be, the dark muddy ground underneath squelched as she walked on it. So distracted was she by the nine beacons that she didn’t notice the orange rock in her path and she tripped right over it grazing her knee.