Michel Davidson was on a trip to his grama's house in Brazil. He was flying a jet, which he had bought two years ago after winning a very good amount of money in a competition that they held on an island. The point of the competition was to survive for one month on the island. They did not give him any resources during this time and he could not have any human contact unless he wanted to quit.
It had been an hour since he had departed from California. He was flying overseas now. The big blue sky seemed empty with no clouds to adorn it. It seemed like a big mirror under him reflec…
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