Entry 1:
Hello. To whoever is reading this, you are either adrift or searching for me. In either case leave now! The cosmos is a treacherous place! My ship will soon have no life left. Something is here with me. I heard it approach. It made noises like the grinding of metal. The sound of death rang out down the corridor, horrifying death. I ran like a coward. I sit here still, hiding. I hear it. The grinding of metal mixed with the crushing of bones and the tearing of flesh. While I hope and pray for a better fate.
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New Purpose
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Their existence proved the life you still held in your hands. They say you never know when you die, for your existence will be virtually unchanged in this place. Yet, the magnificent purple clouds are the only sign of life versus death. I gazed up into the purple whimsical clouds every night for twenty-eight thousand, eight hundred thirty-seven nights. I still remember them vividly.
By Abraham Boulterabout a year ago in Fiction
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