Hello and welcome to our community! Is this your first visit?
I began to make my way across the precipice of the rock face. It was dark, but that mattered not. I've found myself walking across these paths so often that I feel even had my eyes been closed, I would be able to traverse this route without so much as slipping once.
Out in the distance, you may see the occasional trawler passing by, they turn into small beacons in the distance, like pinholes in the night sky. It was my own preference that they not come across these shores. Perhaps I had gone insane. This ailment will soon leave me immobile, they may very well be my only hope of survival; but this illness is not only of the flesh.
I made camp in an abandoned shack, its supplies scarce, its frame eroded, like everything else on this island. At night the wind howls through the windows, as if fiercely shouting at me. Perhaps, it seems, that I am not welcome here after all.
The next morning, I started my ascent on the green slope of the eastern side. The climb is tough, my legs barely find the strength to carry me. Yet I continue, something draws me to the top of the cliff, as if some sort of salvation is awaiting me there. The wind attacked me yet again, as if it were trying to plunge me into the depths of the ocean. My boots grip the rock tightly, I tried desperately to ground myself not only on the path, but in reality as well. I fear that one day, I might suddenly slip.
I'm lead to believe that this island was once occupied by farmers. The landscape is littered with pastures and fields. I hoped that perhaps they may have left some cattle. I have become so emaciated that I fear had I come across one, I could have turned savage. I am sustained only by the shrubbery which rarely grows here, its berries provide little sustenance; though, at the moment, they seem to be the only thing preventing me from starving to death.
Later that day, I came across another shack. It was as dilapidated as the last, however, curiously enough it contained a small pile of books. I hoped that they could teach me more about the history of the island, I took only what I deemed most interesting, and carried them in my pack. At the very least, they could serve as some sort of entertainment. After scanning their pages, I discovered that I had indeed been right. This island once lay host to a settlement of farmers. Why they chose to come to this island, I know not, though I am rather curious to find out. Another one of the books I picked up, had revealed to me that the inhabitants of this island were strictly religious, perhaps they had travelled on some sort of pilgrimage. Right now, I can only speculate, I've become rather good at that, even more so when I first arrived at this island.
The world is not beautiful, therefore it is.