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You've spent half a year on this uninhabited island expecting rescue soon, but six months, and not shit has happened. You've already used your other portions of clothing for survival tools, and necessities. It looks like you're gonna be here a lot longer than you expected. "Oh well" you say as you strip off your whats left of your now skimpy bra, and panties. "It's not like they are gonna be concerned about my modesty when they find me" You say to your self. "If they ever find me", you say as you start carefully shredding the cotton from the elastic.
You pause mid stroke of the shredding task as you lift your nose to smell the faint, and delicious smell of a barbecue, but are only let down to see the smoke of some wayward vessel off the coast of your secluded island, which will most likely turn up in a day or two shipwrecked on the beach. Hey at least you have a chance to forage for some supplies.
