Terrible wind kept us all up last night, with horrendous bangings and doors slamming in the middle of the night, and the train going by at all hours. I have been tasked with recording these people’s movements, but very little was done today. Cooking, some cleaning, and some traveled with their bicycles to an unknown location. Definitely suspicious. Jack seemed particularly interested in my movements. She said it was just curiosity and conversation, but I will watch her.
My accommodations are simple. A lamp, and mattress on a frame, a chair, a bedside table, and a mirror on a shelf. My legs are getting quite spiky and I don’t know what to do. My hair is tangled and filled with split ends. I am not used to this repressed life, no matter how temporary. What must it be like for people who truly live like this?
We have broken numerous social norms in this place of ours. Our plates are licked clean, pots and utensils are barely cleaned, our dirty hands wipe away other dirt. Personal bodily functions are discussed casually and I find that even I am being lulled into a feeling of comfort with these people. That is good. It will allow me to keep up my facade longer. I am under no illusions that I will be discovered eventually. I am not a skilled agent trained in manipulation and passive interrogation. I was chosen because I fit the profile and I hope I do not disappoint.
Also, I stepped on a cactus.