I just reread the last entry to the rest of the crew, going over everything that happened in that small town. Everything we do to survive carries such an enormous risk. A simple thing like getting drinking water could easily lead to our deaths. And yet, we were all inside, reading the journal and talking, because it’s wet out on deck. It’s been raining, nice and gentle-like for the past two days. It’s the kind of rain shower that would have been perfect for gathering water. Of course, now we don’t have to because we have enough water. It’s one thing if I’m walking for miles on end on a “boring” day. I keep busy by walking. But I’ve been stuck inside the boat now with nothing but my thoughts. I’ve been going over my journal, trying to piece everything together between the written pages and the typed pages. Janine and Blevin have been with me most of the time, reading over everything, adding their own bits of information, trying to remember where they were at the time events like Black Mountain happened to us.
