10th April 1989

Time to kill

I’ve taken some more time off in order to do some sleuthing.

I can’t lie. I do feel guilty, not least because I’m now pretending to be sick, but that I still haven’t told anyone about the bones. I was always told to respect the dead, as if I would ever have some nerve to disturb them. But here I am, holding on to the disjointed skeletons of at least two former inhabitants of this world. No evil has befallen me. Nothing has happened, at all, in fact, apart from those stupid nightmares. And even then…

Today, I visited the library. I used their computer archives to pull information from the regional newspapers. This took me right up to evening, but I have learned some things. Apparently, there have been no significant disappearances in this area since January 1981. At least, no missing persons cases that haven’t been resolved. And even those were benign. Tourists getting lost in the forestry, or climbing too high up on crags. We haven’t even had a bank robbery.

What am I do to? I’m not going to be alone forever. When they arrive, I’ll need to have answers.

Or, I suppose, I could simply hide everything away.

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