The Hundredth Day a Sea

The hundredth day at sea and all supplies were gone with the exception of the fresh rainwater.

Today it was calm and warm. It would be considered a beautiful day, if only he had something to eat.
Of course, he could try to fish again, but it was really down to chance. The expanse of water all around him only emphasized how little chance there would be of fish anywhere near willing to bite his mingy offering. He’d miscalculated when putting aside food for bait. The last time he’d caught anything had been two days ago, but now, desperation led to desperate measures.
He was clever.
If he cut his finger and put blood on a bit of carton, it might draw fish. Hadn’t he read somewhere that sharks could smell fresh blood miles away?
He looked at the time.
He would try for ten minutes.
But when ten minutes lapsed, he continued, knowing that he had nothing else to fall back on but fish.
After half an hour, he gave up.
Bloody hell! This game was getting on his nerves now. To have come this far and then to give up?
That was it. Better to leave while he was still in charge and alive.
He moved the cursor over to the ‘X’ in the top corner and clicked. The page disappeared before all his vital signs had crashed to zero.
He wondered if anyone ever got past the 100th day at sea? Maybe if he Googled it, someone could tell him how to move on to the next level.
No, no satisfaction in cheating.
What was that other game he’d heard about?
Mayor of your own city? That promised lots of scope for advancing in the levels.
Besides, he wasn’t a sailor at heart.
He got seasick.