Jeff Jones, Week 4

“He who was living is now dead

We who are living are now dying

With little patience…”

Eliot again. The Waste Land. Quite a long poem filled with nonsense. Nothing to learn here.

He’s still there. He still shows up every single night. He’s still moving closer. He’s in my yard now. If he were any closer I could see him from my desk. I still don’t know what he wants. But he’s clearly targeting me. Haunting me. Hunting me.

I’ve not gone out much this past week. I’m losing sleep so I rarely have the energy to leave the house. When I do I don’t stay out long. I go and get food to survive and then return home. You’d think that with this isolation and insomnia I’d be able to get more work done. Not so. I’ve found working even more difficult now. Even though I’m in the right state of mind to really hammer out some quality stuff. I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m terrified 24 hours a day. I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. What sort of work would I be doing in this state?

But anyway. I’ve gone out three times this week. The first time was a simple food run. The second time was the same with one difference. I talked to the manager of the store I’ve been shopping at. His name is Roland. He was concerned about me because my visits had grown less frequent over the past week or so and because I looked really pale. I told him I was just feeling a bit under the weather lately. He gave me his cell number and told me to call him if I needed anything. I thanked him and left with my things.

The third time was just today. It wasn’t good. I was heading back to the store for more food as always. I walked to the back of the store and worked my way to the front as I grabbed things that I needed. I looked up after grabbing a can from the shelf. And I saw him. There across the street he was standing on the sidewalk. Staring straight at me. In broad daylight. In a crowd of people. With nobody acknowledging his presence. I froze and dropped the can that I was holding in my hand. I slowly walked toward him. I reached the door and opened it quickly before running down the street. I heard Roland calling out to me from behind but I didn’t stop. I ran for a good twenty minutes before I dared to turn around. There was nothing there. I had ducked down into a small alley so there weren’t even people around. Just silence.

That describes my week almost to a tee. Silence. Silence as I drove through the crowded streets. Silence as I sit at home unable to work. Silence as I stare out at my window at a creature that stares back. Silence as I sit here typing. Silence as I survive without living.