The date is currently unknown to me, as I have awoken at a time straddling yesterday and tomorrow. The realm beyond my bedroom window is blacker than the coals in my fireplace. There is an eerie silence at this hour, but I suppose this is a product of the night.
I know not the reason for my midnight disturbance, but I suddenly awoke only minutes ago with my wits about me as if it were the hour of the sun’s triumph. My ears twitch at the slightest creak. The sound of my quill is so comparably loud that it seems to scratch at the paper like nails on the wall.
My thoughts return to the man that I saw earlier. The memory of my fleeting encounter with him is disproportionably well remembered. As I attempt to recall other events of yesterday, they seem to blend together. The entire day I remember only as a whole; except that event. I’ve reread my previous entry and not even the notes that I’ve left behind reimburse my decayed memory. Only that event, do I remember. In the morn, I’ve resolved to more thoroughly investigate this matter. There is no way his existence was hallucinatory.
Since the beginning of my recollection the air has gained a notable eldritch quality. The feeling is not that of a draft. The air doesn’t even feel as though it has any turbulence. Yet it seems as though the warmth has faded and replaced with a paranormal chill. Even as I hold my fingers to the tip of my candle’s flame, I feel no heat. I wish greatly to return to the comfort of my bed, but my eyes feel not the strain of a weary day. Despite this, I will attempt speed the arrival of the morn. Hopefully the sheets will provide me protection from this unearthly chill.
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