My tormentor sits beside me, mocking me.

"Come on, Ben, you know you want me, why don't you just do it?"

I try to ignore it, work on my tan. The sun helps out by shining down as bright as possible, baking me to a crisp.

"Beeeeennnnn," it sing-songs to me. "Why don't you peel off this outer cover and do what we both know you want to do?"

Water splashes in my face, pulling me out of my delusion.

My mind drifts back to this horrible reality.

Alone in a life raft, adrift in open water, my companion who speaks so seductively is an unopened can of baked beans.

For three days I've stared at that can. During my less lucid moments, it mocks me and beguiles me....

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