Explore "The Island of Desire" by Robert Dean Frisbie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Satyr Bones is dead, and I shall write his obituary on this hideously noisy night in the trading station.
Bones lived to a ripe old age, but he never admitted it. Up to the night before his death his voice was as stentorian as ever: to him a whisper was a mighty bellow that reverberated across the lagoon like a clap of thunder. Though his flesh sagged, it told the tale of a mighty man in the true Danger Island manner: mighty in love and eating. But now Bones is dead.