on March 11, 2016 at 1:31 am
Tuna, Ham, Chicken… all salads. -Ish.
The font and speech bubble fluctuations continue apace. They grow more unstable with each passing minute. There are no other survivors, and the last of my firewood burns to embers before me. Never before have I feared the stars, yet now I see them not as divine protectors watching from the firmament, but as looming predators waiting for the right opportunity to present itself.