Epilogue: Jeff Jones

When I came to this town, I said I wanted to work on my next novel. I wanted to get away from the city and get back to the core of the emotions I wanted to tackle in this novel. Isolation. Paranoia. Fear. I found all of these things in this town, just not in the way I wanted to find them. I was simply too preoccupied with what was happening to really notice that.

I’m writing again, and for once my work is going incredibly well. I’ve made incredible progress, and have worked out the issues I was having regarding the lack of an antagonist. The only thing I’ve not yet settled on is a character name. I’m thinking something with a J.

So yes. I’ve finally found what I came to this town to find. But I found it in a terrifyingly intimate way. I can now write a novel about isolation, paranoia, and fear – but only because my encounter with the creature created those things within me. Is that why he came to me?

I’m not sure. But in the end, I’m not sure about many things. There’s only one question that I am frustrated with my lack of an answer for.

Was it worth it?