904

eSc

– C O L L I N W O O D –

Collinsport, Maine 04605

David stole a book, and while that is inherently (poor choice of words) shameful, I am more disturbed by the nature of the book.  It smells foul, has bizarre — almost impossible — art, and the words within it are not only of a foreign language, but one that makes me want to submit to an attack of nausea when I look at them.  I know this because the sensation goes away when I take my eyes from the words.

I can imagine David stealing a book on anatomy or one of Harry Johnson’s men’s adventure magazines, but why this?

This morning, I woke up from a most disquieting dream, the specifics of which escape me.  But I have no recollection of going to sleep, much less taking off my makeup, etc.

What on Earth is happening?

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