it is cold today. it is rather cold and the ground remains hard. food is becoming low. sleeping terribly. i do not know where i am. i am following the descent of the glow; heading west, i presume. no way of knowing.
it is cold across this world. though i am alone i know that i am not just alone. when i awake i am not in the same place as i was before.
meal is not so bad. only need salt. i was fortunate to have found large enough jars but small enough for backpack. the meal is lightweight and effective at deadening hunger. though there is not enough calories. i must ration more. other than sleeping and eating and writing, i walk.
i walk because there is nothing here. and i believe, i think, that by walking forward i will get out of this place. this desert.
((Though I've no idea what's going on, so I've no basis to add anything at all to this, I'd just like to say that this is perhaps the most interesting series of events I've witnessed in quite some while, and I lurk about often))
((why not...I hope no one minds if I play along.))
His vision is blurred and the swimming sensation in his head only just matches the pain his body is feeling. Like being hit by a car perhaps, or some other equally violent collision of flesh and steel. Staggering his way forward he makes out the simple outline of a city phone booth a wry smile slips over his face, but makes him grimace. Christ...he thinks to himself, his whole body feels pain, even smiling hurts now.
The sensation is still strange, looking down at his hands, but realizing that they aren't his anymore, looking around to see the same places he has always seen, but realizing and understanding that these are not the same places. Still moving forward, inching towards the phone booth, his heart rate is erratic, but none of that matters now. This backwards hell he has fought so hard to be a part of, the strange face he sees when staring into a mirror, the terrible pain, none of it matters. The phone booth is closer, almost within reach, if he can jack out then he can rest, its time to rest, he doesn't belong here and the system knows it.
F**k...he said it would hurt...but this much? Muttering more to himself than anyone else in ear shot, stumbling he finally puts one hand on the glass of the phone booth, sliding the door open and stepping inside he slumps against the side wall and picks up the reciever.
Get me out of here...listen I don't care, the system knows, I have to get out of here. No, I'll come back it isn't that, this body isn't as strong as it needs to be, I need to rest. No, I understand my obligations, but I can't keep searching if I'm dead now can I? Now get me out of here. The building at the end of the block? 5th floor second room down...got it, thanks.
He slams the reciever down on the hook and pain shoots up his arm from the action, damning nothing imparticular he stumbles his way out of the phone booth and nearly falls over, having to prop himself against it for a moment. There is a woman and a child on the sidewalk, walking along they stop to stare for a moment, he gives them the finger and whinces a bit the mother ushers the child on.
D**n people...mind your own business!
Regaining his composure a bit he stumbles off towards the exit he was given, muttering to himself the whole way, looking up at the sky only once as he approached the apartment building.
You're out there, I know you are, and I'll find you. I've been to hell and back to find you...and I never lose.
