Land of the Lost


Twyla Jane

A Message in a Bottle

Don’t own ‘em and never made a plug nickel off ‘em. This is my answer to Shipcat’s December Mag 7 challenge. Judge Travis has set our fellows a task that takes them a long, long, long, way from home. Like Moscow, Timbuktu, East L.A., or any other un-exotic location of your choice. You can send anyone you want or any number. The only thing is that they have to do is write postcards home telling why they aren't making it home for the holidays. As you wish Gail I will try to comply and as always with a twist of my own. This is set in my Land of the Lost AU. I couldn’t help myself honest.1/8/03

The sun shone brightly in the blue sky. The morning light sent painful needles coursing through his skull. Nathan was nearby inventorying and repacking the odds and ends of the meager first aid kit. The other men were about, where exactly Ezra Standish wasn’t sure as he sat quietly under the shade of a massive tree penning a letter, actually he was inscribing the message on the back of the tattered torn remnants of a impulsively purchased postcard. A rough woolen blanket lay loosely draped across his knees its necessity in the tropical clime eluded him. The fever that had plagued the southerner for days finally left high humidity and lingering remnants of illness had the sweat pouring off him soaking his clothes making them cling uncomfortably to his skin. With hazy vision Ezra wearily stared down at the missive he had begun, mentally rereading the words.


Dearest Mother,

It seems I must extend my humblest apologies that I am unable to join you and newest husband For Christmas. Now Mother I am fully aware that you have never been overly sentimental for the holidays and the associated festivities but still I regret being unable to join you.

What a strange turn of events. How I ended up here amid nature’s raw elements defies the most logical account. My compatriots, the six gentlemen whose who have the misfortune to join me in this ill fated journey, have tried and failed miserably to effectively explain our presence here.

Here, the crux of the matter is precisely that. Neither my companions nor myself can arrive at a plausible answer as to just where actually that is. One moment the world shook, seemed to swallow us whole. My memories of what transpired next are sparse and at best confusing. The flora and fauna, I must admit are interesting. We shall not want for food, though extra care must be taken so that we do not end up as morsel on the menu of large carnivores. I saw my first Pterodon this morning as it soared or the warm air currents above the plateau, an awe-inspiring sight. Though will freely admit that I could of passed on the Tyrannosaurus Rex that chased us from our previous campsite forcing our intrepid party farther into the valley. I realize that I am prattling on so I will end by wishing a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Although I sincerely doubt that this correspondence will ever fall into your hands, I send my love in the proverbial message in a bottle

Always Ezra


Packing away the last few items in the small white case Nathan’s curiosity finally got the better of him, he had been watching the southerner for the better part of an hour as he sat hunched up against a tree tightly scrawling out a message.

“Ezra, what are you doing?” Jackson stood up and swiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his face and neck as he walked towards Standish.

“Sending along a message to my mother that I will not be able to join her for the Christmas holidays.” A smile flashed across the ailing man’s face as he spoke.

“You do realize it is only August Ezra?” Nate crouched down in front laying a broad hand on the side of Ezra’s head testing the flesh for a return of the fever. Relieved to find although it was warm it lacked the heat that had plagued Standish for days.

“Sir I must ask if you yourself realize that not only don’t I have a stamp to post this but there isn’t a single mailbox anywhere on this infernal world?” Having enough of the unsolicited attention Ezra brushed the hand away as he grinned and slowly drawled out his response.

“Point taken.”


Disclaimer: don’t own them never will <sigh> an answer to the Monday morning drabble about running 6/30/03


The shouts were coming from the edge of the jungle.


Ezra sat for a moment in the shade of a massive tree wondering what the man was going on about. Since his recent knock to his head, his brain hadn’t been quite up to… His eyes widened when he saw it.

A big god damn Rex

A Tyrannosaurus Rex to be precise and it was hot on the trail of Mr. Wilmington.

The ground began to shake beneath him managing to grunt out an “Aw Hell!” as he struggled to his feet and began to run.