expand_less THE FORBIDDEN & FORGOTTEN DIARY OF MUKELEAA ISLAND
 
 
 
 
Day 45
 
A month ago I found it completely ridiculous to write in these pages.
They've sent me away for writingwriting, areally. thing.
And there's nobody here to read what I've written.
And there is no one to talk to but myself,myself/ so here I find myself
anullingThey my recent divorce with words.
We will wed harder than before, as they will see me die
on these three spits of rock, as far from the holy isles as one can be
and still be touching something holy.
 
They expectAt me to die here, so at least when they come for my body,
they will ship these words back to my family, and they will know
that I did not forget themthem. or why I was here.
Maybe this will all be useful one day, who knows.
I expect they will hide this unless I hide it first. It is lucky
that curious people will keep being born, despite so much of truth
being out in the open, isn't it? 
 
Anyways, allow me to briefly describe the least attractive island of the holy isles.
Perhaps it might assist a future geographic eccentric.
Mukeeleaa is the furthest west isle of the holy isles.
It is not really much of an isle, as barren and jagged volcanic rock with enough land to have some sand and five blades of stoic sea grass,
but never a tree. There are no trees here, but perhaps I will try and grow one.
 
Among this platform of rock are a few other little platforms, connected by a few skinny land bridges.bridges.No
 
No one lives on this island - except me now, and no one ever has. 
Its only inhabitants are a colony of giant wasps which are considered the holy occupants of the region. region. On
On the east side of the island is their spit of rock, and further, two days travel away, is the closest island where several other
Elhannai live. A few guards are posted there daily to check the wasps remain undisturbed, and I can see them drinking on the shore most nights -
two little dots and a fire. I am told if I touch a wasp they'll shoot me full of flaming arrows. Who wants to even be near a giant wasp?wasp in the first place?
 
The island's jagged stone is covered in a thick layer of bird and wasp droppings, though I've not seen a single bird come near this terrible place.
The locals call it Wasp Dung Island or Wasp Island or even,sometimes sometimes, just Wasp. Wasp. I
I picked this up from the local soldiers who were discussing my predicament as they dropped me here while discussing how very little they envied myme. new home.
 
Still, it's mine now. I am its only citizen.
 
 
 
Day 80
 
I might as well rewrite the whole thing here. They've likely taken everything and hidden it or burned it, though we do not like burning books.
Maybe it is locked away in one of those libraries no one visits.
 
Anyways, there's no harm in a copy when it may turn out to be the lasting original. And I've no other reason at this point.
I'm I was told I'm here to care for the wasps, but they do not need me. They're giant wasps.
If I'm to be punished for my curiosity, I might as well enjoy the slight vigor of my outcast status, and this feeling of volition.
It is an irony not lost on me that the people of the Holy Isles, accepting of all gods, religions, and codes, could not accept someone
like me, simply curious about the point of it all. 
 
I expect anyone who reads this will have followeedfollowed a cleverprecarious sounding note in the marginalia of a ledger somewhere. 
somewhere. Eventually reading these words, you'll wonder how I could not escape.
Visit Wasp then. See if you could even find it.