1619

I closed the faded cover of the binder.

All those constant references to the text being a novel made no sense. The page count did not touch sixty, and most contained no more than a few paragraphs printed on the A4. Squidged together you might reach four solid chapters. 

Some of the photos had fallen out of place too. Many did not relate to the writing, and the circles and arrows lacked clarity. I held a few to the light to see if anything emerged when illuminated. Nothing. 

All that moon and monster stuff decreed a fictional piece anyway. Perhaps the photographs formed a larger puzzle in the complete version. Placeholders for narrative clues. 

Regardless, I had to leave. 

Snow continued to pelt down outside the window. I headed to the door, marveling at the intensity of the flurry. The road I had walked down a few hours before now combined with the pavement in an all encompassing opal carpet. A hard slog back was inevitable, but at least there was plenty to think about. 

That was until I saw the figure staring at the building. 

I dived onto the floor, convinced that someone would soon march up the stairs, demanding to know the reasons behind my trespass. All my potential explanations morphed into a weird jumble with no resistance to pressure. 

After five minutes of scrunched up hiding, I dared a peek through a tiny corner of the glass. The figure remained stationary, snow gathering around thin ankles. They had not moved any closer, but my exit was directly in their eye line. I did not like my chances of running in this weather. So for now, the building remained my home.

Food might be an issue soon. 

Moving around too much seemed a bad idea. But next to my den was a small transparent box. A heap of SD cards half filled the inside, the kind used in video cameras about fifteen years ago. Each fitted into a snug plastic coat, a white sticker labeling each one. All were numbered, but the highest digit remained a mystery without further digging. 

What interested me was the notebook placed on top of the mound. The kind with a spiral bisecting the side. On a translucent front cover was a water droplet design, and a logo of sun rays hitting a greek statue. Purple silhouetted whales ran underneath. 

If I had to wait, I might as well keep reading.