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July 19, 2005

Michele: The New Franklins Fly Their Kites

Three days after they attacked, we are still without contact from anyone. I expected the National Guard, maybe some special ops. It’s been silence.

Most of our belongings disintegrated. We’ve made do with wearing bedsheets for now, but it’s getting cold; a weird winter has set upon us in August. The sun hasn’t been seen in days.

I hate the silence. Where are my neighbors? Dead, I presume. Why did the creatures spare us, then?

Albert and Danny are acting weird. And the growth that crowned their heads this morning has encroached their backs and arms.

I am so alone.

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