Young Writers Society

The beach at night was an odd place to be, All the senses were filled, for smell the humid air carried the whiff of the jungle and the salt of the sea, for sound the slurp of the waves and the chatter of insects, and for the sense of sight , there was an open feast. The moon hung high in the dark sky like a luminous ball of French cheese, and the stars , like glitter in black paint , And the jungle, an exotic wall of vegetation, with leaves fanned out at the top and berry-rich bushes at the bottom and an assortment of vines and wood in the middle and all were bleached white by the moons pale glow. But strangest of all, something completely new to the deserted island was the camp.

In the narrow strip of sand between the jungle and the sea , nine tents clustered around a clearing, they were green with walls of polyester and complete with beacons burning orange at there doors illuminating the figures in the clearing, who appeared to be having a barbeque.

George was among these figures, his dark skin made orange by the torch light. He was arguing with a tall , lanky man who’s face resembled that of a horse , long and immensely stupid.

“ look” he said , trying his best to control the swelling anger in his chest, the man he was addressing was the project leader after all “The plan was to take the gorilla alive”

“I know” he nodded stubbornly, not seeing the floor in his plan.

“Shotguns are not the way to go if we want the gorilla to…”

The man seemingly forget the conversation and began prodding a sausage on the barbeque to there left ,George sighed and walked off , David was insane, How he became the captain of the project no one new, and if it weren’t for his personal adviser he would have nuked the island to get the damn gorilla , but what he said was law , and George was not prepared to commit mutiny.

George spotted a group of giggling girls sipping wine in short skirts and long shiny hair , he thought how nice it would be if they noticed him for once, and not as the ugly strange man that wore beige shirts and brown trousers , he took a step towards them with a sudden angry courage, but sighed again and turned round , making for his tent.

Once inside he sealed the entrance with the zip and lay among pillows and blankets on top of his sleeping bag .He stared at the beacon outside which appeared a dull , shifting orange . He thought of the plan , and the same pity arose for the red gorilla they would capture , but he knew he needed the money more than anything to send to his mother and father in Uganda, and soon ,with his family in his mind, and red wine in his belly, and the warmth of the cozy enclosure surrounding him, he slept.

Next part coming soon, any comments , complements ,insults and ideas are sooper welcome.