Winter has finally passed. The unkempt garden out back grows profanely, as if its "privates" were extending wildly, or like fierce green flames. Vines have overtaken the white-washed gazebo where I'm kicked back in a moldy wicker chair. I'm watching clouds mingle like friendly mollusks gliding around on a big blue plate. This is much better than the manor. Out here I don't have to wonder about the mysteries and the unstable atmosphere of loneliness. It's still lonely out here, though. But at least I'm not alone. I've got Pete out here eating bugs and keeping me company. I've come to really depend on him for my companionship.

The local shops have been really unpleasant as of late. People have been looking at me funny and I'm sure that they're talking about me as well. It's for the best, though. If people find out about anything that I've been up to, all would be terminated. One of the instructions given to me in the files--finally finished reading them--was to "pull the plug" if anyone caught wind of Dr. V's work. I don't know what pulling the plug would do exactly, but it did mention something about setting the device loose. Let's hope that it doesn't come to that.

I got the Benz out and running. Benz diesels are solid as a rock and this one just needed a bit of tuning to get rolling. I still take the Lambi out religiously, but it is hard to go to case lot sales with the thing. That's right, I have bypassed the quaint town center that is Brighton Hill and have taken my business up to Fairrington Heights, who are currently letting the urban set eat up what bucolic charm was left of the place. People come from all over to live where they could still see cows, sheep, and horses. Ironic that there is no rural real estate left for them to amuse themselves with, anymore. Anyway, the big superstores, chain restaurants, and warehouses there have set themselves as the economic "teat" of suburbia and are slowly sucking out the rest of Fairrington Heights' once beautiful innocence. This is a place where people are too superficial and too self absorbed to know their neighbor. This is the perfect place for me to do my business.

After dropping by the mega-shop, or whatever the hell they call it, I had to drop by and see my lawyer about getting more funds from the trust for some landscaping. It was there that I bumped into her, after all these long years.

Sarah Houghman was in town and visiting her father. I really wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to go in there and confront my past emotions for her.