Jak and I have spent the entire morning cleaning up the cabin, packing clothes, and trying to burn as much of the remaining wood as possible and we are now getting gas at a c-store on Highway 23. It is kind of sad to leaving the cabin, partly because I do not know when I will get the chance to come back. Though it always has been sad to leave. I remember, as a child, trying to hide in the woods, in various forts my cousins and I had constructed, while my mother cleaned the hut and packed up all of our shit that we had brought with. I always hoped that in the flurry of cleaning and the number of kids that almost always seemed to be there, she would not notice that I wasn’t in the car. Unfortunately, I have never had that kind of luck before.
I have also had the unfortunate luck of losing Jak to her IPod, so now any hopes of a conversation have been shot straight to Hell, and the fact that what would have been a five minute stop has now turned into twenty, for she is not accustomed to the way I am used to getting gas. I suppose I could have asked her for help, but the sadistic side of me likes to watch her freeze her ass off in the cold truck.