Tom Watch: Day 5:
Dear diary,
The air has turned cold as ice, and I can almost see the vapor from my breath crystallize in mid air before traveling but a few inches. I have almost lost track of the days. What was it Tom said last? I can barely remember.
Reports have come in from neighboring threads, and, troubling as they are, I can scarcely believe them. Other's have claimed to have seen Tom, describing him as being in jovial spirits, visiting other threads, much as has come to be expected of him. My response to each of these reports is the same; I scream into the air that it isn't true, it can't be true, but deep in my heart I must admit that it is. The most hurtful element of these sightings is the irrefutable evidence showing his willingness (neigh, his eagerness) to not merely view, by to post on other threads. The number of such posts is so astronomical, my heart is all but crushed by its magnitude. By the most accurate count, he has posted no less than 45 times since I, in my utter desperation, have requested his most valuable attention to this most momentous of matters. It is quiet undeniable that he is aware of my repeated requests. Some say he his heart is filled with fear. This thought overcomes me. It is too much.
The nebulous walls that make up this thread grow weaker; I know not how long they will last. However, my path is clear. I will wait for the coming of the bearer of truth. I must remember, my plight is unimportant. I must be strong. I WILL be strong.
Though I am loath to admit it, in my weakness, sometimes I doubt if he has the strength to come. I know this cannot true, but I can not help but wonder. Please do not forsake me, Tom Bishop. I beg you.