This for Sunday Photo Fiction
Time: sometime mid seventeenth century.
Place: a deserted island.
Robinson Crusoe, a shipwrecked sailor
Friday, resident of the island
A speechless parrot, unnamed.
Friday Yo, Crusoe!
Crusoe Friday, my man! How goes it?
Friday It’s cool. Cool.
He stares at the object on the beach.
Friday And what have we here?
Crusoe follows his gaze.
Crusoe Ah, s’a boat. Y’know.
Friday Nope. Don’t know. Another of the white man’s wonders? Like the umbrella.
Friday smiles teasingly. Crusoe gives his brolly a spin.
Crusoe Yeah, somethin’ like that.
Friday A boat. Very, er, yes, er, very very.
Crusoe Why thank you, kind sir. Delighted you find it so, “very”.
He puts his arm around Friday.
Crusoe It’s for us.
Crusoe Yep. Look. Two seats. One for you, one for me.
Friday So we sit in it? Both of us? Together? At the same time?
Crusoe beams. Does a little jig. Sings.
Crusoe I think he’s got it, by George he’s got it.
Friday Yeah, yeah. My Fair Lady. I know. Very Euro-centric.
Friday But ah, but what about the master-servant relationship thing?
Crusoe Ah, that. Easy. You sit in the back seat and I sit in front.
Friday You sure?
Crusoe Absolutely. No problem. Wanna try it out?
He jumps up and down in excitement.
Friday Nah. Gotta have breakfast. Maybe later.
Crusoe Cool. Call me.
Friday exits stage left
Crusoe looks longingly at the boat, sighs, stoops, and exits stage right.