Cabin Fever.

The Shire seemed bleaker than ever tonight. Snow is still lying thick, and so there are no animals around. The pub was in darkness even though it’s Wednesday, I haven’t seen or heard a vehicle on the road since tea time, and the air has a spiteful, incisive chill to it.

*  *  *

Do you know what’s odd? The fan heater in my office is quite loud when it’s working, and I keep hearing a woman’s voice singing among the noise of the fan. And what’s even odder is that it only happens after midnight.

Maybe it’s that naked young woman I keep seeing in my bathroom. She’d be a welcome sight if only she didn’t display an unfortunate habit of turning into an old crone every time she gets close. Or maybe it’s the twins; they’re creepy enough. I’ve tried talking to them, but they never answer. They just stare at me.

All work and no play makes Jeff a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jeff a dull boy.

All work and no play makes Jeff a dull boy.

Must remember to mend that door panel tomorrow.