Ficlets

Thundering crashing noises boom around me as I am dropped in a crate to the ground from maybe 100 feet. I am pumelled on a soggy, green, pointy forest floor. Crawling out I find a huge, black, square box next to me. I read a plate on it that says “survival tools.” I tear it open in fear of a fearful sound around me.
I find in the box a large bag, katana, canteens, and food. Packing I find my I.D. in a almost empty wallet. I travel far from where I was dropped off at.
Finally i get to the shore only to find people sticking spears at me and a chief said “Pokutoniato Chichitia Rockeytoentana!!!” I didn’t uderstand him but I gave them much help.
Then they speaked english finally to reviel to me that the same thing happened to them that happened to me! We were fought against by many other islanders.
Our technology was so improved we biult a huge boat from our homes. We paddled away to civilization and were finally back to our true homes.