Sunday, 12 August 2012

AUGUST 12, 2012

Log from August 12th:

I’ve crossed the border by bus, and the moment I did, I shredded my passport. I cannot return home, and the less identification I have, the better. I will not say where I am, exactly, but I’ve at least managed to find a motel that will take me in for free, tonight.
The owners of the motel are a middle-aged couple, both marked with red. Their only request for letting me stay was to help me praise the Mistress. It was awkward, and I’m exhausted, but a lot safer than I would be, camping out on the street again.
I feel like there’s a constant presence in the darkness, just watching me. I sometimes think I can feel something breathing down my neck, but it’s in my imagination. I’m sleeping with the lights on, tonight.


  1. i dont need to sleep, and if you would be mine, you wouldnt need to either. food for thought.

  2. Red. If you work for, are pursued by, or fight the Fears, the presence is never your imagination. Be careful.

    And tell your mistress I appreciate her being one of the few who leave me be.