[Let me be straight with you. This is trash, like old dime store novel trash. Don't expect grandiose writing, anything profound, or much beyond being free of spelling errors. Like my profile says, it's hopefully like a salty snack, decent and satisfying for people looking for this kind of thing (at least that's my hope). It is simple, weird, and most likely growing in ridiculousness as it rapidly escalates.]

Michael just wants to get away after a rough breakup. He figures some time alone cruising on a sick jet ski will help clear his head. After a small series of mishaps he winds up as humanities last hope adrift at sea after nuclear devastation destroys the mainland. Will he be able to solve the mystery of the bowl of the ancients before nuclear winter freezes over his dwindling food supply? Who are these mysterious women he keeps meeting, and will he even care about the talents they bring to the table, or will he be too focused on how they keep ruining his carefully laid plans for survival at sea?

Read this cheesy short story to see for yourself, and discover the true mystery behind the hand of fate.