John's diary ~ 41 ~
It is good to live in a small country, from end to end - couple of weeks on foot. Passing cars, stolen money - I'm sorry, I'm in need. Posters with face... Whose mad eyes are looking at me? I have already seen them in the puddles and reflexions of shop-windows. Locks in hair white as milk... Well, you have to pay for freedom with your life. At least with its part, but it is worth it. Mum, I'm just ten miles away.
