Hello friends,
I can't account for a few hours. I didn't dream; there is only a blank period of time from when I was going to bed to this morning when I woke up in the RV. We found ourselves parked on a side street in Roswell, NM. No one else seems to remember anything strange. Not even the lights in the sky last night. They say I must have driven us all here to Roswell. Sleep driving? I guess that's possible. I have slept walked. But the postscript on my last postcard leads me to believe I saw something. I think I realized something last night, but I can't remember.
We found Joe at a local diner where I told everyone of my concerns over some coffee and eggs. Joe thinks it must have been that farmer, Hank, who used us to get to town. He found out White Oaks really is a ghost town. Hank ripped us off, it seems. He didn't own that farm house at all. To be honest, my earlier excitement of possibly finding extraterrestrials (aliens) has devolved into fear for me.
The other Skeletones want to play a music gig tonight, but I have some thinking to do and I feel like staying in the RV all day and night. They'll have to do without the maracas this time. Melody is going to fill in for me.
Your friend,
Felipe Femur
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