I’m still extracting ore from out from under a chunk of hill I thought would be, well, hill. It’s going pretty deep, though not all the way to the bedrock the way some of the ore has.
I’m also still working through the night if I don’t pay attention to the time. It’s hard to pay attention when you’re underground and the watch I build is, well, not fantastic. I should probably try to figure it out and make a better watch, but sometimes I get home and I’m just too tired to do anything other than write in this journal.
I still believe, despite everything else, that there’s still hope that either I will e rescued or that my remains will be found close enough to my journals that someone out there will find me and know my story. It’s a rare privilege to have someone not only find such journals but also pay attention to them, so I know it’s more of a hope than an actual fact. But it’s my hope.
And meantime, I dig more ore.