Dear diary,

Goodman's awake. He doesn't clearly remember being parasitised by those sand bugs. And that's like, really Lucky. I wish I could scrub the image of wriggling wormlike things bursting out of his pores out of my brain. I can't help but puke my guts out whenever I remember it. I think I need therapy.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Gina is deworming Doty right now. I'm supposed to help her but I genuinely can't stand in the same room as those things. So Bitsy's helping her instead, and I've been put on guard duty.

Which is shorthand for stare out of the window in boredom.

Love,

Tina