Saturday, March 17, 1984


Tonight Lee was acting funnily, just sitting in a chair in his room in the dark, facing the window. He said he was trying to see if he could spin round, like he used to be able to . . . then he asked me to leave, and refused to answer my insistent questions, so I left him to his own devices in the sparse cavern of his room while I shivered upstairs, unwilling to make a fire, thinking that this house has a nighttime atmosphere that affects us all and puts us under its spell. Malignant.

Tonight too Alex simply walked out of the house and hasn’t come back. Maybe Lee is having a breakdown?

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