2 June 1927 / Houat

I finally washed ashore this morning after days of drifting in the sea upon my steamer trunk.

Some locals here swiftly plucked me off the rocky shore, and set me up with what seems to be a sort of welcome kit for boatless men brought in by the tide… apparently, it’s pretty common. Though most of the residents here, as far as I can tell, appear to be retired sea-hoboes, I’d venture to say a sizable chunk of the populace are those who washed up by chance, like myself, and decided to stay.

And I can see why, judging from the contents of the welcome basket: it's filled with crêpes. When I was bobbing up and down in the ocean like an idiotic cork, all I wanted for some reason was to eat as many crêpes as I could. And so it seems I’ve landed in paradise.

Actually, it seems as if this island is fully sustained by a crêpe based industry. Every sort of crêpe imaginable has been gifted to me, and many crêpes, previously unimaginable, are somehow commonplace here. Even now, I’m wearing a pair of crêpe socks as if I’d always worn them, so cozy on my feet are they after my journey on the sea.

Thinking about my time out there, in between shooing sharks and jellyfish, I had some time to think about my hasty decision to cast myself and my belongings overboard.

Did I regret it? Of course not. My travelling companions were insufferably dull and I could not bear them any longer. Nor did I regret my flamboyant shaming of their dullness prior to my departure. It was surely something they needed, though I doubt they have any capacity for change.

No, it’s that in my rush, I left behind my schematics for a slicing machine that could be used for anything resembling the size, shape, and texture of a loaf of bread. In particular, I’m thinking of its use for the study of a post-mortem dachshund.

The details of this machine I’m afraid I’ll not be able to duplicate, as they came to me in a hallucinogenic fever dream brought on by rancid Channel shrimp. Try as I did to recreate this vision by drinking sea water, it was of no use. It’s gone forever.

There are many lessons here, I suppose, but in deliberating on whatever they might be, I would become one of those dullards that brought me here to begin with. My new companions would be better served by me if I hunker down and start churning out as fanciful crêpes as I can.