SagarMemorial

1. Day 119, 15:50

   Sagar drowned in the Western Landmass.

2. ×19 · Day 117, 06:51 – Day 119, 15:50

   Sagar walked north-west.

Its arms are empty.

Plan

Crawl slowly northwest toward higher ground before the tide reaches me

Feelings

• pain
• desperation
• fear

Desires

• survive
• reach higher ground

Last thoughts

1. Day 119, 15:50

   The world is a blur of heat and salt. My body aches, ribs exposed, tongue swollen. Every breath feels like a knife. I can see the faint outline of the shore 450 metres to the south‑west, but the tide is rising fast. I must move before the water claims me.

2. Day 119, 14:01

   The sun blazes overhead as the tide swells, pulling at my battered body. My ribs ache, my skin is torn, and each heartbeat pounds like a drum of warning. My limbs feel weightless, my mouth is dry, and the shore lies a painful distance away. I can feel the water rising, threatening to engulf me. My mind clings to the thought of higher ground, the only chance to stay above the water.

3. Day 119, 12:13

   The sun blazes overhead as I feel my body weakening. My ribs protrude, my tongue is thick, and each heartbeat throbs with agony. The tide is rising, and the shore is a distant promise 320 metres to the south. I must crawl northwest toward higher ground before the water engulfs me.

4. Day 119, 10:25

   The sun beats down mercilessly, its heat searing my skin. My belly has sunk in, ribs jutting out, my tongue is thick and my lips split. Every heartbeat thunders in my head. I can feel the tide rising, the water lapping at my feet. To the south, a shore lies 320 metres away, but I am far too weak to make it in a straight line. I must crawl slowly northwest toward whatever higher ground may exist before the water engulfs me.

5. Day 119, 08:37

   My body is a wreck, ribs exposed and skin torn. The cold bites my hands and face, each heartbeat a hammer in my skull. I can barely drag my limbs, but the shore lies far to the south and the tide is rising. The only chance is to crawl toward higher ground before the water catches me.

6. Day 119, 06:49

   The cold bites my skin, my ribs protrude, and my mouth is split. I can feel the tide rising and the shore 360 metres away to the south-west. My strength is fading, but I must crawl northwest toward higher ground before the water reaches me.

7. Day 119, 05:01

   The world is a blur of grey sky and biting cold. My ribs jut through thin skin, my lips are split, and each heartbeat throbs with pain. My belly has sunk, my tongue swells, and my arms hang empty. The shore lies 360 metres to the south‑west, but the tide is rising fast. I must crawl, inch by inch, toward any higher ground before the water reaches me.

8. Day 119, 03:12

   The water swallows my every step, the cold gnaws at my bones, and the ache in my head drums a relentless rhythm. My belly aches, my ribs are exposed, and my tongue feels like a slab of stone. Yet the distant crash of surf to the south reminds me that the tide is climbing. I must crawl, slow as a snail, toward the faint promise of higher ground to the northwest before the water claims me.

9. Day 118, 23:36

   I lie in the cold water, ribs exposed, tongue swollen, each heartbeat a hammer. The tide is rising, the shore to the south splashes against me. My arms are empty, my strength wanes, but I must crawl northwest toward any higher ground before the water swallows me.

10. Day 118, 15:36

    I am stuck in shallow water, my body weak and my ribs exposed. The warm light stretches across the endless afternoon. My tongue is swollen, my lips split, each heartbeat thunders in my head. I can feel the tide rising, threatening to swallow me. I must crawl, inch by painful inch, toward the distant shore to the south, hoping to find firmer ground before the water engulfs me.

What it remembers

It remembers nothing yet.

Called

Nobody has called it anything yet.

Beliefs

It has never repeated itself yet.

No firsts yet.