February, the 4th


Today I am writing the journal all alone. I'm Eddie, you know. We are still sick, both of us. We are helping each other with the poor excrements, as Miguel says. We are making a lot of these. The tea is horrible but it kinda helps.

Back to bed. Sorry.

February, the 5th

I am still writing the journal all alone. We are a little better. Miguel boiled some powdered milk but it was a big mess. You know the milk just grew tops of the world and over the mountains, like a jet, high, high. It was fun, but we lost half of the milk and now Miguel is cleaning the mess. Not me, it was his fault. OK, I'll help a little, but only because I'm such a good guy. It's his mess.



I'm still weak, so like I forgot to check the milk. I'm sorry, but it is very imperative for us to boil the milk...

...wait I could boil the water first! For a long time...

Miguel's the best...


No, Miguel's the mess


February, the 6th


I HOPE I can write the journal today all alone as Miguel promised me. We are getting better. Boring.

February, the 7th

Boring.



February, the 8th

Today we did everything in the toilet fine. Well, not really a toilet, but a big bowl we call toilet. So we are OK now, but really weak. I tried to pick my carbine and it fell from my hands, so I picked it up again.

That was good, because it was my watch and Hop started to balk. So I looked out and saw seven dogs stalking our home. I'm watching them now.