Not to just kill time, but to destroy it.

14Dec/11Off

Journal Entry 2

Midday.

The hot sun on my head. Swinging my pick axe into the mountain. The rock is cool as I dig deeper. I stop when I made a large enough cavity for myself. I return to my workbench and use my remaining lumber. I construct a door and a sword. The sword is made from the stone I dug out. I rush down to the valley with a plan, and my sword.

I attack the herd of cows. I collect all the beef and leather I can. Seemingly unfazed of my actions, I take the wool I need from the sheep. I walk past where I collected the lumber and pick up all the saplings I can find. Trees seemed sparse, and I need to preserve it all I can. Planting trees as I return to camp.

Back at camp, the sun is setting. I scrap together what I can and make a bed. I move into the room I made in the mountain. My bed fit in the corner. I took a moment to reflect, outside. Watching the sun set, I wondered why I was here. Who or what brought me here. And how long I could survive without help. The sun sets, and the moon is already out, leaving a soft glow. Then I hear foot steps. Did someone find me so soon?

I walk to the edge of my new home to look down. I see a human figure, I called out! "Help, I'm up here!". I now know it was a bad thing that I got their attention, they came up to me...

 

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