Diary of a Fox

Entry 5

June 5

Its cold. Like, legit cold. We're almost to the Utah border.
"Twenty miles away." According to Edward. Seriously, he's getting on my nerves. Acting as if he's in charge. But, last time I checked, I'm the one with the gun. And the brains. They're seriously sexist. When I'm not writing, other words, every hour of the day except early morning. I know I should be sleeping, but its not like its possible anyways. They always leave me the rocky ground. They get the grassy, soft ground. Maybe tomorrow night I'll get a chance. My eyes are developing circles. And, its not attractive. And my stomach is flatter than a back-on-the-normal-American-days-models stomach. Okay, okay. I'll admit it. I'm eating less. Too busy worrying about my family and Anthony to care. They better be alright. Or, I don't know what I'll do. They're all I have left. Even if they're so far away. If I have to swim across the Atlantic just to find them. Sign me up. Top of the list. No need for safety. Just throw me in, and promise me they're at the end of it. Of course, I'll probably take a nap afterwords. A LONG one. But, I'll be satisfied knowing I'll wake up to them sitting next to me. In our home. Back in California. With my friends, family, electricity, and ramen noodles. I never really did care for them back-in-the-day. But now, I've had a major craving for it. I'd shoot a man for it.
I guess I'm going crazy. Better join the Luis Crew.

Notes