Part of a free writing project in 2016. Picking two words at random, I wrote a short vignette about the first thing that came to mind. 

Words: Rum, children

Somewhere far away in the Pacific Ocean, there is a cluster of islands—volcanic—jutting from the ocean like a stain left by a coffee cup on the map of the world. Far from caffeine-brown, the islands are more of a vibrant spattering of green and white.

 They were uninhabited until a small lifeboat of survivors from a large cruise liner happened to spy them in the distance. Many onboard were close to death from weeks on the perilous ocean. Supplies had all but dwindled. Just over half of the original number were still alive when the desert island ring sailed into view. With what strength was left, they rowed ashore. 

 A little way in from the beach, dense patches of palms and other tropical plants were scattered. Exotic fruit and wildlife were to be found in the vegetation. Flowers bloomed like fragrant carpeting. A small river fed a larger lagoon that eventually tapered off into the ocean. There were coconuts. 

 With luck on their side, the survivors set about foraging food finding and water to slake their thirst. Fed for the first time in weeks, they felt nourished by a new lease for life. The hunger in their bellies was transformed into determination in their minds as a train might clink into its new course at a junction. They set about exploring the island, its jungles, rivers and then on to the other islands that strung out to the north and south. They made makeshift treetop platforms—high above the ground in case of predators. They made tools and became good fishermen. 

 Months past and they had all but forgotten the lives they’d led before the cruise, the city dwellers they had once been. They had formed a community. With a community came trust and with that, love. It wasn’t long before pregnancies occurred and, in a matter of months, babies bolstered the number of inhabitants to the island. 

 More years passed. All of them felt that island life was as integral to them as the blood in their veins—deep jungle green and white-sand blood. The elevated platforms had been turned into a village canopy of treetop huts and walkways. The children were taught, mostly by memory, all the adults could remember and all they’d learnt since arriving on the island. 

 After a morning of knowledge exchange, the children would don make-believe roles. They’d be pirates or princesses or politicians—whatever they had learned from the adults that day. They would adventure across the island to their favourite spots where make-believe always seemed more real. 

 One day, a game of chase ran them off their normal playground, bringing them to a part of the island not yet explored. The trees were more dense and unfamiliar. They found a clearing. One child found a length of rope encrusted in dried seaweed. Another found a sun-bleached rag nailed to the trunk of a nearby tree. There had been someone here before them, surely! These were not naturally occurring things. These were curiosities. 

 The sand beneath the feet of the child who found the nailed rag sounded different—it had an echo of depth. Another child joined him to investigate and they felt a creak reverberate, a deep groan from somewhere beneath them. The ground gave way. The two children plummeted a few metres into the black hollow beneath the sand. 

 A shaft of sunlight lit the heap below, a tangled mess of glass fragments and the two children at odd angles. A pungent smell rose back up through the shaft of light. The unknown, medicinal smell stung the noses of the children that peered into the hollow. It was lined by a wooden frame. Rusty hinges must have been what had allowed the wooden covering to collapse under the children’s weight. 

 The children peered once again into the black hollow. The two children glistened at the bottom, wet in their deathly shapes. Glass shards were shattered about them, curved in some places as if it were a bowl or cup. There was a cork stopper. The wild-eyed children cast dumbfounded looks at one another across the hollow's opening to what lay below. They had found an ancient abandoned rum store.