She's been nagging me to wear this goddamn cross for the last week.

I've got half a mind to lock her out of the apartment for a couple hours until either she calms down or the rain washes her away.

Since when did life become a goddamn sitcom?

Unease

I wish I could tell you there was a reason for the absence. That there was an attack, that someone had died, that Octopus Man had showed up and caused some havoc, anything like that.

I could say that.

But it'd be just me telling a good story to entertain the masses.

No, things have been quiet since the incident with Keaton. Too quiet, in fact. Not much left for me to do here, I think Celeste will be able to survive without me before long.

I mainly just walk around Ocean City by myself. Nothing's happened, but lately I've just been feeling down on my luck, and no amount of whiskey purchased from the nearby liquor store has been able to make me feel better so far.

Wren hasn't called. Not even to check in. That worries me a bit. As much of a pain as he is, the one thing he is is reliable. But no calls since he left. I don't know if he just can't or if someone's stopped him from checking in. Somehow I can't make myself believe he's dead; otherwise I'd have heard of a massacre of cops and agents by now. If Wren was gonna go down, he wouldn't do it without making a big mess.

Things are feeling tense at Celeste's Haven. Nothing's happened, just this uneasy feeling hanging over the heads of the people who are still here. Like we're expecting something to happen. Good or bad.

Whatever. I'll see if Celeste is ready to update soon.