Notes to Cindy: The Archives

When I got to the tent last night, the tent was flat to the ground. The bears tore a hole in the floor and snapped one of the tent poles. Everything was still dry after the first storm wave thanks to the tarp that Shayna got me. All that was left of the food was a package of dried almonds. I trecked back to Ingles to get some ducktape. On the way back, these two snooty berry pickers told me I shouldn't be here, after I told them what happened. They said, "WE have two families of bears up her...

There's a "Bermuda Triangle" in Fletcher. North Carolina, and right now, I'm living in it. It was poison that led me here- poison plants, poison creatures, poison water, poison places, poison people, a poison mind, a poison life made up of poison events.... I'm scared. I'm paranoid. I wish the poison would hurry up and kill me. After twenty-three years, It still hasn't and I'm afraid it never will.

So, here I sit, naked and vunerable, in the small jungle of Flecher Park, attempting to ...