How can they do it?
How can people exist in the desolate waste land of Canada’s far reaches, beyond city limits, in the middle of no where.
There is nothing here, its cold outside, but the wood stove inside makes it comparable to death valley.
Prairies aren’t exactly beautiful, not these ones anyways, I can see from this window nothing but dilapidated sheds and broken fence line supported by a back drop of the most disgusting Canadian birch trees I’ve laid eyes upon in quite some time.
Its pitch black out except for the outside motion sense triggering a light bulb that is almost as strong as the sun, illuminating the whole area for a solid minute, I half expect a charlie manson-esque ocult group to be staging a home invasion with the strange country noises I’ve been hearing and the light flickering.
Regardless, I’d probably welcome it at this point, I’m attempting to write a resume and its impossible to think, so bored, I think it can only show through the way I present myself on paper.
I wish I could see a grizzly bear face off against a chupacabra in the moon light right about now, who ever wins doesn’t matter, I would gladly fight the victor and lose miserably, I can see it now, an eight foot tall mythical alien against an out of shape Canadian armed with a butter knife and a pocket full of dreams.
More as it developes.
Cordially, from the centre of a frozen-burning-hell.
Colonel-Doctor Gilbert,
