found drama

This island is full of clones.  I have only been stranded here a few days and I have figured this out.  On the third day, the island’s figurehead is rounding up all of the residents for a convocation and a feast.  As we make our way from the beach toward the meeting place, I see a man slither out of the ocean.  Quietly, he assumes his position within our ranks.  He is familiar but I do not believe I have ever seen him before.  During the walk, someone remarks that it was good to see him again, that they had been worried about him.  When we reach the meeting place, I tell the figurehead what I saw.  I tell him that I think someone is replacing us one-by-one with clones.  His eyes are glassy and he tells me that I must be seeing things, that my theory is impossible.

About Rob Friesel