Day 2 of my expedition. The sun is up, but the land is quiet. I peer from camp, ice surrounds my shelter.
Time passes slowly in this strange place. I believe it has only been one night, but i feel aged and worn. I will venture forth today and explore.
The natives appear to be ambivalent about my presence. They speak in squeals and grunts, only approaching when sustenance is needed. I avoided a small outbreak yesterday when they learned there was no more bacon for breakfast. I hid until the melee ran it's course. Other than that, they've been nonviolent...but I'm still cautious.
A dark force lies on the outskirts of this small village. It's menacing presence can be seen stalking back and forth from the bathroom to the television speaking in tongues about missing financial reports. I steer clear of it. I can tell no good will come of that one until the ice melts.
I don't know how long I'll be here until help arrives. I don't even know if I'll survive. If I don't make it...if these midgets capture me and use me for food or entertainment...if the dark force finally breaks and implodes... tell my people I love them and that I tried.
Dammit, I tried.
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Playground rules apply: Speak the way you'd like to be spoken to and if you don't play nice, I'm kicking you off my monkey bars.