Day Twenty Eight

The day started at close to eleven, to colder than usual winter air enveloping me despite the warm bed around me.  Eventually mustering strength enough, I rose from the fabric cocoon and attempted to be productive. I ended up fixing the misplaced key from my laptop's keyboard.

Early in the evening, I found myself at the grocery store chemist for a vaccination, but the lack of progress in the line of prior customers drove me away.  Driving home, I saw that strange businessman from several days prior, at his usual location and calmly gliding from store to store.

Day Twenty Seven

The day started at a much more acceptable 10:00 this morning, with me awakening to the sounds of the neighbours doing yardwork and whatnot.  Recalling that, when last the neighbours concocted such cacophony, that strange, pale man was first seen, I swiftly dashed to the window in order to determine the presence, or lack thereof, of that same man.  He was nowhere to be seen, to my relief.

As the hours wore by, I found myself frantically typing away at my trusty, if aging, laptop.  To my dismay, a drink was spilt on the keyboard, causing several of the keys to grow unresponsive and sluggish.  One key, the letter 's,' broke off entirely, leaving me to type upon the rubber innards beneath the plastic letter-square.

Shortly thereafter, I once again beheld the soothing presence of my lovely companion, and, after a mildly lengthy meal, saw the relatively new film Into the Woods, and were both disappointed by the lack of cohesion of the film's plot points.

Day Twenty Six

The day started at noon, once again.  Shortly after I awoke, I journeyed north to, you guessed it, see my favourite person in the whole world for the majority of the day.

Day Twenty Five

Today was my lovely companion's birthday, and so the day was spent in theirs and several others' fellowship.  It was quite enjoyable, to say the least.  Aside from that, the only other notable occurrence was the appearance of that same homeless man from many days prior - the one who gave me the insane writings.  No words were exchanged between he and I, and so the encounter was less than notable.

Day Twenty Four

I, again, awoke at noon, much to my chagrin; I tend to prefer an earlier start to my day.  Either way, that strange pale man was once again crawling through the forest behind the house.  Perhaps it was, instead, a different being entirely, but it appeared as pale as before, so it is a safe assumption that this one was the same as the one from days prior.  It does not vex me, though, as he shows no intention of coming anywhere near the house.

What was vexing, however, was the return of that vague sense of paranoia that I have previously experienced; I can't explain it without conjuring up wild and insane theories about eldritch beings which control the minds of men from dark and lonely places, and so, lacking a plausible explanation, it is to remain a pervasive mystery.

Not much else happened this day, as no other queer beings crossed my path today.

Day Twenty Three

Once again, I failed to awaken at the usual time, instead waking up closer to noon.  The early hours of the afternoon were spent in quiet seclusion, as the new year began to settle in. Early into the evening I was visited by my lovely companion for several hours, sharing a meal and enjoying each other's company.

Going to and from dinner, I noticed a dark-robed man wearing a strange sort of mask which looked like a beak of a peculiar sort.  He was near a pet store, though, so perhaps he was a queer mascot of some sort.

Day Twenty Two

Perhaps fittingly, since today was, of course, the first of a new year, I was unable to wake up at a reasonable time this morning, slumbering until roughly noon.  Again, perhaps fittingly, nothing of any importance was done today; the biggest achievement of the day was my listening to The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway.

Since I failed to leave the house, I had no encounters with anyone, sinister or otherwise, other than my family, nor did I experience any sort of paranoia or sickness.