Gad!  If I see another spider it will be far too soon.

If there is anything I hate the worst, spiders would probably be far on the top of my list.  I have loathed spiders ever since my stupid older brother threw a tarantula on me when I was a kid while on a hike at the park near our home in Arizona.

Well, I happen to be on an island where there is nothing but spiders.  I'm talking big, honking, bigger-than-your-hand size spiders.  How did I end here, you ask.  Well, the plane I was on crashed; I was the only one who survived.  And I have been here ever since; there's no telling how long I will be here ... or if I will ever get rescued.

If there's not spiders, then there's lizards and trees full of lush fruit.  That's how I have been trying to stay alive: cooking the lizards (need a whole lotta 'em to make a decent meal; not much to 'em 'less they're king-sized) and eating the fruit that ain't turning rotten in the sunlight. 

I don't have any problems with the lizards: it's the spiders that give me a massive case of the creeps.  All too often, my mind flashes back to the time Tyrone put that damn tarantula on me; it's like I'm reliving my nightmare all over again.  I just wonder if the spiders here are poisonous or if they are hungry for blood or a meal .... I am not planning on hanging 'round 'em to find out.

Just pray that someone will come to my aid; I'm sure that the people who had been searching for me when the plane first crashed have long given up hope of finding me alive or think that I am dead when I am anything but ....

~To be continued!~