09:50 PM 30/03/2020
Act 2: The Book.
As Jon closed the door. He took off his coat and hat and climbed up the stairs of his house. He leaned against the wall next to his desk. He looked down. His hands were. His vision was blurry. He got up gently as he tried to regroup. He sat at his desk looking out the window on the left side of his house. As the lightning flashed by he saw it. Frightened, he closed his window blinds and sat down at his desk and continued writing.
1943, June 6th, 2212 hours.
The city is often quiet, they say. It is often uneventful, they say. Not to me. Not to others like me. We see things differently as it seems like we are being watched. We are not safe. That somebody is behind us, and that person on the street behind you was planning to kill you. This is what we see. This is what ANXIETY feels like.
Jon set aside his journal and estalated down his stairs to his kitchen and sat down. The piece of bread he had bought was a bit blurry. Johnathan adjusted his glasses and tore the bread piece by piece and ate it. He put away his food and looked out at the moon, it was a full moon this night. He got up and walked back upstairs. He sat down and continued his work:
1943, June 6th, 2325 hours.
It is really dark right now. The rain had stopped. It is quiet. I think a bit too much. Might as well call Great Britain, Great Silence if you ask me. I find this true until my anxiety kicks in. It is a shame to have this curse on me. It is getting late for me in britain. I will write tomorrow.
“End..” Jonathan quietly spoke to himself. He got up from his seat and looked at the time. It was 20 past 10:15. John got up from his seat and blew out all the candles upstairs and downstairs. He walked back upstairs and fell on his bed. He took off his glasses and he fell asleep but before he shut his eyes, he saw the headless figure again. Too lazy to open his eyes again, Jon fell asleep..
As Jon closed the door. He took off his coat and hat and climbed up the stairs of his house. He leaned against the wall next to his desk. He looked down. His hands were. His vision was blurry. He got up gently as he tried to regroup. He sat at his desk looking out the window on the left side of his house. As the lightning flashed by he saw it. Frightened, he closed his window blinds and sat down at his desk and continued writing.
1943, June 6th, 2212 hours.
The city is often quiet, they say. It is often uneventful, they say. Not to me. Not to others like me. We see things differently as it seems like we are being watched. We are not safe. That somebody is behind us, and that person on the street behind you was planning to kill you. This is what we see. This is what ANXIETY feels like.
Jon set aside his journal and estalated down his stairs to his kitchen and sat down. The piece of bread he had bought was a bit blurry. Johnathan adjusted his glasses and tore the bread piece by piece and ate it. He put away his food and looked out at the moon, it was a full moon this night. He got up and walked back upstairs. He sat down and continued his work:
1943, June 6th, 2325 hours.
It is really dark right now. The rain had stopped. It is quiet. I think a bit too much. Might as well call Great Britain, Great Silence if you ask me. I find this true until my anxiety kicks in. It is a shame to have this curse on me. It is getting late for me in britain. I will write tomorrow.
“End..” Jonathan quietly spoke to himself. He got up from his seat and looked at the time. It was 20 past 10:15. John got up from his seat and blew out all the candles upstairs and downstairs. He walked back upstairs and fell on his bed. He took off his glasses and he fell asleep but before he shut his eyes, he saw the headless figure again. Too lazy to open his eyes again, Jon fell asleep..
09:51 PM 30/03/2020
nice funny story