I believe being cooped up inside is beginning to bother me. I was sitting in the nook, the one we have recently cleared, when I thought I saw the figure of a man.

I started up quite suddenly only to hear Thomas shut the front door. When I looked in on him he was shedding his overly large coat and setting one of the pots back in place. It had only been him. But isn’t it funny how pleasant things can be so distorted in the moonlight?

I can't help but think of him.