Still the wind howls…

Still the wind howls. The supply of kindling is holding out, but my food is dwindling fast. Fast is the right word. Three bars of chocolate left. And a cherry cake. I have divided everything in half and rationed myself. It seems to be working because I don’t seem to feel hungry. Yet. This blizzard can’t last much longer now. My friends at the inn will be getting a bit worried. There really is something very odd about this logbook. Or maybe its the ink in my ballpoint pen. Anyway it’s done it again. The words I wrote yesterday have, overnight, tip-toed off the page and disappeared. I find that strangely disturbing. Copyright: Hugh Noble, December 1999




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