where the writers are
entries from the lost Journal...continued

The twelfth day of August,

The year remains unknown

 

After making it to what was once a storehouse for injury remedies, I quickly discovered it had long been depleted of anything useful.  Quite sure I’d been followed, I had no choice but to move on after a brief search.  A full moon did not bode well for my nocturnal travels.  I can feel my temperature steadily increasing as time passes I must conf…