Tue, 14 Oct 2008 13:44:54 GMT

Prologue: The Island Is Perfect

The island is perfect.

The kind of island that adorns many a Windows computer desktop when the owner of the computer is too boring to make one of their own.

The white sands look untouched, a barely noticeable breeze making occasional grains stir in various directions, while the clear water laps gently on the shore. The trees don’t move, their large leaves offering blissful shade to the animals that snooze beneath. Birds call in the branches, sweet trills creating melodious chords that hand in the fragrant air.

The only thing spoiling the picturesque scene is the plane wheeling in the sky above, circling the island before it begins its slow descent. Not that there’s anywhere for the plane to land – this is an island, after all, not some kind of aeroplane landing strip randomly placed in the middle of the ocean. The plane still lands though, in the middle of an area that has been cleared of trees, in a way you might think was deliberate if you were either cynical or merely expected some kind of plotline from a narrative.

The plane lands with a minimum of fuss, but only three people leave through the door, one of whom is dressed in highly stereotypical pilot fashion, even down to the goggles perched on the top of his head. The other two are quite nondescript, the kind of people your eyes would glance on before turning away. Well, one of them might make you run away. He’s dancing up and down, giggling and waving his hands in the air. Maybe he’s insane.

Before moving away, the three disappear into the bowels of the plane, emerging clutching several wires and pieces of engine. The mad one whoops into the air, causing the others to glance up at the plane door worriedly, and then they scamper off into the jungle, following a path only they can see.

It takes about two hours before anyone else emerges from the plane. The passengers stumble out, looking dazed, blinking into the sunlight. They aren’t really as glossy as you might expect, and there’s no women amongst them. None of them seem overly surprised to have been dumped on an island, and none of them is staring at any part of their body in amazement that it now works again.

Perhaps this island isn’t as amazing as it first appears.

Who knows? Maybe it’s not some island full of mysteries and contradictions and impossibilities. Maybe it’s not the kind of island to star in a hit TV show. Maybe it’s just a sodding island.

etinarcadyego