The brush and the trees were too thick to cut through. They made us have to look for a new path from the camp's fire to the lake. The boat was at the lake. To eat we had to catch fish from the lake, they were all trout. The trout hid deep in the lake, and to reach them we had to row the boat out far and use big weights to sink our lines deep. Deep was where the cold was, and the trout could breathe there and hide from the heat of the sun. To catch the trout we would put small fish and bugs that we caught on our hooks and sink them in the depths of the lake, where we knew the trout hid. But there was no clear path to the lake from our camp, and we had to spend the day in search of a clear way, or at least to find some brush that we could cut through and make our own new path. We had no time to waste as it was, and the brush was much too dense to get to the lake. Jim and Kate were still at camp, sick for lack of food, we had not had food for more than a week, and we were stuck out there and not a soul knew where we were, and if there was no way to the lake and the trout and the food they would die.
But there was no way, and they did die, and now Phil is dead too, and I will soon be dead too. Go not this way friend, or you will join us as we search for all of time for the food just out of our reach. I can't rest now. Phil and I must find the way. Jim and Kate need us. We must catch the trout and eat them and live. Phil will find the way. He will save us. Since we were kids he was the best, and he still is, and he will find a way to save us and catch the trout. First I will sleep. We will sleep and find the way and live.
All the words were one syllable words. I'm telling you this at the end because otherwise you'll pause after every word and have no idea what the story's about. It was fun to write it, I'm not sure how well it turned out.
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