The Lost Diaries of John Smith - Part THREE
DIARY 22/23 June 2014
This is my second attempt at keeping a diary. My first lasted three days and ended up on the fire – not to keep warm, but because I couldn’t do justice to what happened or to those I lost. I wrote like a man possessed with guilt and things to confess. I also wrote to keep my mind occupied, but writing only made things worse. I realise now that I could have done more instead of running away.
After walking for several days I came across my new home. My only possessions are a tent and a few sundries scavenged on the way. Although I have an MP3 player with built-in radio, it doesn’t work. Neither does my mobile phone.
Not sure what day it is! It could be either the 22nd or 23rd of June. I write this diary because I need to keep busy and because I want to leave something behind that hints at who I was, and that I existed after my home and everyone I knew turned to ash. I also like writing.
My new home is a tent discreetly positioned within an old outbuilding in the corner of a field. I only discovered it by chance - trying to reach high ground, so I could see where I was. It offers me isolation, which I need or crave. No windows and not even a door, but it offers added protection and keeps me hidden from gun-toting post-apocalyptic survivalists or perhaps the Russians? Before the firestorm there was no hint of any international tension or crisis. It was a normal spring day. Something big happened - big enough to cause so much devastation.
But why am I so at ease after what I witnessed? Maybe because I survived? I’ve lost everything and the worse is not over. I’m hungry. I’m starving. I have the shits and no toilet paper. I spend my time either sleeping or looking for food – this while avoiding others, especially as I constantly hear the sound of automatic gun fire. Are we at war, and if so with whom? The Russians perhaps?
I’m not frightened nor anxious. What will happened will happen. I cannot run on an empty stomach nor wish to prolong the inevitable. But I survived when others didn’t and the guilt is tremendous. The visions of what I saw are also constantly with me.
What I cannot fathom is that a nuclear attack is much about radiation as it is about mushroom clouds and firestorms. I remember watching a BBC drama many, many years ago about a nuclear attack on Sheffield, in which the survivors became sick with radiation poisoning. Here and now, and there is no nuclear rain or fallout. I’m not sick and my hair hasn’t fallen out. And it’s been over a month with me being exposed to the elements.
The problem is that although I have a natural supply of water - a stream some distance away - it‘s not drinkable most days. Sometimes it smells of metallic ash and other times it’s just filthy. Then again, half the food I’ve looted wasn’t fit to eat either, but what choice do I have? So I have the shits and no toilet paper.
Although I’m nowhere near where it’s worse (my home town was destroyed) the countryside still shows signs of being scorched in places. The last few properties I passed, before settling for life in a tent, were all damaged and looted, though I did manage to salvage a few bits and pieces, but not much food. Pity the person who pinched tins of food but not the tin opener, and pity me with a tin opener and no tins of food. But I do have a crowbar and a few candles. Most of my time is spent walking great distances looking for food, which usually means smashing into abandoned cars of which there are plenty.
24 June 2014 (decided to mark today as the 24th)
Woke up and for a brief moment I wasn’t stuck in a tent in the middle of nowhere, but rather I was in that place where we all reside before reality kicks in. Outside the tent it’s warm, clear and sunny. Decided to explore the South-West. Found a few abandoned cars and a van. Nothing apart from an a few tools and a AA road map, which doesn’t tell me anything, as my field doesn’t have an address or postcode. Spent the evening trying to figure out where I am. Will explore on the morrow.
25 June 2014
Another unproductive day and I’m running out of vehicles to plunder. Found a car with a some baby wipes and little else. Before the firestorm I would have never even considered a career in car-crime and now I can smash my way into even the most luxurious of cars without flinching. Needs must. Also running out of paper to write on.
26 June 2014
Jackpot – around two miles south is an abandoned car. Used the crowbar to gain entry and totally buggered the rear hatch. Inside was filled with the stuff of dreams, or rather someone’s weekly shopping. Took what was salvageable – four carrier bags full. Arrived ‘home’ in the rain. Weather has turned for the worst. Salvaged toilet paper, more wipes, eight cans of diet coke, tinned fruit, tin of chicken curry, some more sweets and 36 bags of crisps. What I left was upsetting – rotting meat and mouldy bread. Forgot to look in the glove compartment.
27/28 June 2014
Feel crap and what I can only describe as being dehydrated. I need to find another water supply.
28 June 2014
Salvation! Discovered an abandoned and looted pub in the middle of nowhere. It had been totally stripped of anything drinkable. No snacks either. Went down into the cellar and nothing, but as I climbed back up the steps I noticed several boxes of crisps and snacks, and enough bottle water to keep me going for a week or two. It’s going to be a bugger to carry that lot back to the tent. Explored the site in more detail. Found more paper and candles.
Emptied the crisps and other snacks into a couple of bin-liners and headed off for home. What I couldn’t understand is why would anyone not notice several large boxes of crisps in the cellar. The entire building and the vehicles outside had been picked clean. But then I realised that if someone was carrying anything bulky up those steps (like bottles of booze) they wouldn’t have noticed what was hidden underneath their feet. Also the lights had fused and the only light came from the room above the cellar. Elementary my dear Watson.
My food larder consists of around 380 packets of crisps, numerous packets of peanuts, Kit Kats and a few Mars Bars, though I left considerably more.
29 June 2014
Returned with more supplies. Discovered a pile of spent rifle cartridges on the journey back. More nightmares about the past – too much guilt to cope with. Watched an electrical storm in the distance - incredible! Trying to think of what to do. What is best? I’m warm and dry and have enough food to keep me going, but what of next week or next month? Does Scotland beckon?
Keep thinking of my debts and that shitty last letter demanding payment. Both the debt collectors and their computer generated demands are gone, but I feel like they are still after me! £7,478.34 that’s how much I owe from four years ago, and why am I writing such dribble. I’m finally free from all that crap. All of it. But I’m also free from my loved ones and those I wanted to love, all of whom are now gone.
3 July 2014
Rested for four days, eating crisps, reading and sleeping. More nightmares.
4 July 2014
Recovered the last of the supplies. Might open a corner shop. One final look around and found some more candles. Spent the evening trying to read a book I picked up, but can’t stop thinking. Maybe I should try and find others?
6 July 2014
Extremely cold and opted to stay inside. Finally and before it got dark, I venture outside to discover that it’s been snowing. It’s not much of a covering, but still that wasn’t on the cards, not in July. I have five candles on the go and that takes the edge off the freeze. Another electrical storm. I can feel the air change around me. I’m in the middle of something that isn’t right. Not British weather being bombarded with light and static.
7 July 2014
The light show went on all night. This morning and the snow has gone. Studied the map and considered my options. Whatever happened it appears to be worse in England and I’m thinking about venturing towards Scotland. Need more food. Ventured towards what appears to be a village on my map. Turned out to be just three houses. Smashed doors and windows, but plenty of food. Loaded up with as much as I could carry. Decided to explore upstairs in one of the houses. The smell should have been a warning worth heeding. In one of the bedrooms were the bodies of a couple. If it wasn’t for the smell I would have assumed they were asleep in bed. Beside them a couple of empty medicine bottles. They had food downstairs, so why kill themselves?
Some of the trees nearby had been scorched (torched even) and the roof was clearly damaged, but why end it this way? I explored the house in more detail - securing more sundries. In the living room there were family photos that hinted at children and grandchildren. Maybe those upstairs knew of their fate and couldn’t live with that knowledge?
The second house was again empty (windows smashed and the front door ajar). Again more food, and I managed to cut my hand while trying to empty a cupboard in haste. Food a plenty and I have started to be choosy. No tins of processed peas or carrots, thank you. At least I know where to come if things become really desperate (plenty of dog food). Decided not to explore upstairs. I was just about to rummage through the third house when I heard footsteps on broken glass outside. Without hesitation I carefully exited the house through the back door, and as soon as I was clear of broken glass on pavement I started to run as quickly and as quietly as possible. Not stopping and only once looking back. Saw no one.
Spent the evening trying to dig a hole in the ground - my non-flushing toilet.
8 July 2014
I don’t know what or rather how to put into words the events of today. This isn’t a post-apocalyptic scribe either. Yes, several weeks ago the world ended, but the truth is more than that. At first I thought it was a nuclear storm, and then when I didn’t succumb to radiation sickness, it then dawned on me that it must have been a meteor that slammed into us – doing to mankind what a distant cousin did to the dinosaurs. I was wrong again.
Saw a massive UFO flying slowly overhead. Not a flying saucer. It filled the sky with its size and darkened the earth below. I can’t imagine where it came from. Actually I can. It just hovered above the countryside for an eternity, as it silently passed overhead. It was angular and long – a flying rectangle – brick red in colour. No engines or markings, just this reddish flying brick.
Felt dumfounded afterwards. My feet gave way and I had to sit down on my favourite rock. Spent the evening watching it hover in the distance. Did this flying machine cause the fiery end? Were we attacked by aliens? Did we fight back? Are we the vanquished? And was the constant gunfire heard in the distance and closer to home directed skywards? Too many unanswered questions, but now we know, albeit those who survived their arrival.
Can’t sleep, partly because of what I saw today, and partly because my jaw is aching after eating 18 packets of crisps. Finished off the Kit Kats. Aliens to confectionery in one entry.
9 July 2014
It returned this afternoon, flying directly overhead. It must be at least a mile long and was totally silent. Waved at it! No one or no thing waved back. Don’t feel frightened by it – just perplexed – still too many unanswered questions. Haven’t heard any gun fire for around a week, but still keeping myself to myself. It’s getting colder and it’s currently raining. Bedtime beckons. We all want change but not when it comes. We’ve all watched Star Trek and Dr Who, wishing that fiction would become reality, no matter how strange. But like this. I use to dream and even yearn for aliens to visit us - even a friendly invasion. I wanted to see a real flying saucer and a real alien, but not at the expense of so much destruction and suffering.
10 July 2014
Nothing happened today. Stayed inside my tent with the flap open so I could read without wasting candle power. No sign of alien or Russkies or armed looters. I’m in denial. Aliens don’t exist. In my youth I would often thumb through books that declared aliens were real. They were usually written by those who treated The Sunday Sport as gospel, but that was years ago. Yes, I believed in life on other planets, but in other solar systems and in other galaxies, and not flying over head in upturned Fray Bentos tins or tossed hubcaps or large red bricks, that could easily be measured in miles or the alien equivalent. Aliens don’t exist and the CIA didn’t bump off JFK. But aliens do exist, so does that mean that JFK was killed by the mafia or the Cubans or the CIA themselves? Life without conspiracies clears the mind and so does a sky sans flying saucers. But the world ended in a fireball and everyone I know and loved is dead, so why not go that extra mile. They say seeing is believing!
I mention the aforementioned Fray Bentos tin because I am tired of crisps and biscuits and cold offerings out of a tin, and have decided to cook over an open fire, which should be interesting as I’m not a scout. I’m not even a great fan of fire (not since that school visit to a fire station and their sadistic hands-on approach to fire safety). Candles yes - I can handle a candle - but not something that could end up with me burning myself or in attracting the wrong sort of alien.
15 July 2014
Three days later, and where to start and when to stop. Firstly my attempt at cooking over an open fire quickly ended in disaster and a burnt thump. And it also attracted the attention of others. Beyond the abandoned and farcical attempt at cooking a meal-for-one over an expertly disorganised fire, I ended the evening running for cover, as an electrical storm materialised almost without warning.
Like before, the light show and thunderous static were unbearable and kept me awake and close to the edge. It lasted for an hour or so (I can’t judge the length of time anymore), but I heard something that wasn’t there or something that was. I was clearly hearing things but decided I wasn’t. Too tired to do anything stupid like venture out into the storm, I decided to try and get some sleep. Then a lull, albeit a short and sharp drop in thunderous static, and I heard her crying.
I opened the flap of the tent and saw a little girl standing not too far away. I quickly ran over to see this child crying over the body of a women. She was dead. Then the storm began to intensify and I grabbed the child and ran. Inside the tent and the girl continued to cry. She wanted her mother who lay dead outside. The storm didn’t help and it didn’t relent. What did help was the sight of food. I gave her some chocolate, and the poor girl, she hadn’t eaten in days.
She wanted to give some food to her mother and I tried my best to explain things, using the same old adage that her mum had gone to heaven, and surprisingly that worked. Despite the noise outside, I quickly rearranged the inside of the tent, and even before I was able to sort myself out, she was asleep.
It was some time before I could sleep myself and not only because of the light show outside. I didn’t want this. I was content being on my own. Always have liked my own company.
Woke to find her munching through more snacks. She was in tears - crying silently - still frightened. I rummaged for a bottle of water and she gulped it down. I asked if she was alright? She just nodded. Outside on the ground was her mother - some 20 metres from my tent. It didn’t take long to realise that she had been struck my lightning. I quickly covered her up with a couple of discarded fertiliser bags and returned to the tent.
The girl’s name is Amy and she and her mother saw my attempt at cooking over an open fire. If I hadn’t have done so she might still be alive. Decided to bury her as soon as I can figure out how and without upsetting the little girl.
Decided it would be easier to find a natural depression in the ground, then place the body within, before piling on as much earth as possible, then cover with rocks and small stones. That way I didn’t need to dig a hole. I waited for the girl to fall asleep before dragging her mum’s body to her place of rest. I sealed her body in three fertiliser bags, tied with some discarded twine. There was no religious service or silent prayer, just the desire to get the job done. As I started to cover the soil with rocks and stones I notice the little girl standing behind me.
“Has mum gone to heaven?”
I just nodded and she joined in - placing rocks and stones on the grave, which was reassuring - knowing that the little girl would be wise as to what had happened. Job Done. With my new guest I’ve started to tidy up. My tent is large enough for both of us and the stockpile of food I’ve acquired. And food is the main worry. We are in the middle of nowhere and with these aliens flying overhead and men with guns on the ground, I don’t know how we are going to survive.
16 July 2014
Amy is from Newcastle. She was with her parents on a day out when the firestorm hit. I think they were behind something that protected them from the blast. Their car ended upside down and they managed to crawl out. They were walking for ages and somehow Amy and her mum became separated from her dad, possibly due to an argument? Incredibility that was weeks ago. They survived all this time, as we all have by scavenging food from abandoned vehicles or vacated properties. Amazing what you can get out of a three-year-old. I thought she was older!
Spent the day tidying up and talking and eating. I have a responsibility now. What to do? I explain that we have to move away and she starts to cry! Why? Because she doesn’t want to leave her mummy. But we cannot stay here forever and a day. We need to move and sooner, rather than later. I give us weeks and not months before things get serious. She also needs proper attention from someone who knows what they are doing!
17 July 2014
Spent the afternoon digging two new toilets - one for me and a smaller one for Amy. Decided to rearrange the tent. There is plenty of room to create her own private corner.
Revisited the stream and its clear with no sign of discolouration, and the taste isn’t too bad. Things are looking up. No sign of any alien space ships either. Strange, I’d almost forgotten about them and the subject of our conversations turn from chocolate biscuits (she knows I have them hidden) to giant ships in the sky. Yes, she has seen one and it frightened her mother, and so she is scared of it too. Yes, I know she likes chocolate biscuits, but she isn’t going to have any until later. Suddenly she isn’t talking to me and throws a tantrum. At least she isn’t crying. I’m not ignoring her, but writing my diary. She is now crying. I relent with a Mars Bar, ironically.
18 July 2014
Up early with Amy missing. Up early with Amy outside having a wee. I explain that I would like her to tell me if she wants to go out, even if I’m asleep. Before I fell asleep the night before I was able to hide all the chocolate and other sugary delights. She found them. Then again, there aren’t many hiding places in a tent. We need some proper food and the rest of the morning is spent with her drawing and me examining the map. I reckon it’s been three days since we’ve done any walking and so decide that we should explore further a field. Also curious to discover what was in that third house - probably more food, but I cannot take the chance.
19 July 2014
Up early (I have no choice now) and we started to walk towards another road that might prove fruitful. Nothing. Spent all day walking. In the end and before we became lost we returned empty handed. Not a good day and as I write this the weather outside is decidedly hostile. Amy is frightened and that means only one thing.
20 July 2014
The morning after the night before. Never did like that phrase. Another thunderous storm and Amy was frightened, so I joined in. We hanged on for dear life and that helped as did the chocolate cookies - an entire packet. Feel absolutely exhausted but Amy is up and about, and I’m still shattered. We talk about life before her day out in the country and before I watched the world burn. She loves her aunt who has a baby boy called Andrew, who Amy loves very much. Her dad makes things in a factory and her mother works in an office and brings home paper and pens for her to draw with. Does her boss know? Sometimes Amy is looked after by her aunt unless mummy isn’t working (part-time?). She likes telly and her favourite food is pasta. Just your average three-year-old post-apocalyptic kid, really.
Spent the afternoon exploring within sight of the tent. Found nothing. Amy picked up a few flowers and placed them on her mother’s grave. I sat down and listened her talk to her mum as if she was still alive. How does she do it? How does she manage to reduce me to abject tears? Couldn’t stop crying. The tears just flowed and flowed. She gives me a flower and that makes things worse. Things have to improve. We are not running out of food yet, but I don’t want to run out before we have to scavenge on empty stomachs.
22 July 2014
It’s back. Amy hid behind me as it flew overhead - this time almost obscured by cloud. Strange shape. Still unable to gauge its size. The surface is covered with groves. Perhaps they add strength? No windows, but an opening near the front. No lights and no markings. Nothing that looks like and engine. Towards the rear I did notice a slight tail plane - nothing substantial - probably more functional than aesthetic, writes an expert in alien aerodynamics. Unreal. I try to explain to Amy that it wont hurt us, only her aunt and baby Andrew. Glad she cant read my mind or my diary!
23 July 2014
Another wasted journey and Amy is getting bored with walking. Not the only one.
27 July 2014
Realised I haven’t written anything for three days. It was Amy who actually pointed it out - she draws while I write things down. This cannot go on. We walk around the tent and she places more flowers on her mum’s grave. I just sit there thinking too much and ending up in a puddle. Have decided to go back to that road, but we will walk south-east and not north-west - effectively walking in the general direction of the firestorm, even though we are beyond most of the damage and scorched earth.
28 July 2014
It’s Christmas today and tomorrow too. We stumbled upon a delivery van - a momentous discovery, only tarnished by finding the remains of the driver nearby. Amy wasn’t phased by the body, then I guess she has become accustomed to living with the dead. Not that it’s palatable or reassuringly normal, so I try to keep Amy behind me to prevent her from seeing too much.
Not sure how he died, but the vehicle ended up on it’s side and in a ditch, and discovered only by chance. Thinking about it now, if I was walking on the other side of the road then we might not be stuffing ourselves silly right now.
There was blood in the cab, and maybe the force of the blast just knocked him into the ditch. Some of the lockers had been forced open but not all, so we’re not the first customers. No keys in the ignition, though my trusty crowbar meant we were able to recover numerous bags of shopping, though some of the contents had perished. Freaked out when I discovered toilet paper and washing up liquid.
We carried what we could and the rest we hid. On our return and for the briefest of moments I thought we were lost. Running low on candles. Luckily the weather has become more stable this past week, and have decided to write outside during daylight and Amy is usually asleep while it’s still light enough for her not be too frightened.
29 July 2014
Amy doesn’t like to pull (or carry) her weight. I decided to recover more supplies from that delivery van. Around half of its contents were salvageable, including tins and packet foods. All I ask was that she help carry a couple of light bags but madam wasn’t having any of it. Half way home she decided to sit on the ground and refused to move another inch. I didn’t loose my rage, but decided that bribery was the only option. She now has the monopoly on our entire supply of chocolate biscuits, while I have blistered fingers and a new record, namely 16 bags of supplies carried. Job done. Even found a few comics for Amy, which will keep her quiet, though they might end up on the fire.
My God, cooking using candle power. It works. Finally hot food, but we only have one knife and one fork, so we share our meals out of the same tin and share cutlery, not that we have much tinned food to choose from. Amy doesn’t like curry and I don’t like mushy peas, but the sausages and beans go down a treat. The knack is in balancing the tin on two half bricks positioned either side of a candle.
11 August 2014
Spent the following morning nursing my hands, which became extremely painful and covered in blisters. I over did things and became sick. Couldn’t eat and then realised that Amy was sick too. Was it something we ate? Then again, everything came out of packets or tins. That was ten days ago but the worse is over. But we almost didn’t make it and that haunts me. There were times when I thought the end was near and she would leave me. What went before was not of my making or choosing. Someone or something took my family and friends away from me, but Amy was now my responsibility and I almost failed her. We both became sick. Perhaps it was the water we drank from the stream, albeit occasionally.
The one thing that never crossed my mind was medicine. Surely I must have come across something that could have helped, Paracetamol or Aspirin perhaps? But for ten days all we could do is sleep and keep warm. I would sometimes read to her, even if she was asleep. And she would tell me about her mum and dad. We talked and talked about everything we liked and didn’t like, like next door’s dog or debt collectors. We talked about our favourite TV shows, some alien to me and some alien to her. I like The Clangers and she likes The WotWots, which admittedly I found rather good.
All we could do is keep warm and rest. Neither of us felt like eating, but what we did manage, we brought straight back up. Things got decidedly worse. Another thunderstorm didn’t help either and I honestly thought that this was the end. I wrapped her up and held her in my arms. Her breathing was strained but she was sleeping. I failed her.
Then one day she was up and about and eating, and thereafter I joined her. We gathered ourselves and for the first time in nearly two weeks we went outside for some fresh air. And while she placed more flowers on her mum’s grave, I offered up a silent prayer and thanked whoever decided that our time hadn’t come. We’ve both lost weight but I think we can both make up for it, there being plenty of calories in crisps and biscuits.
Spent the day tidying up our tent before deciding that it’s time to move on. We were lucky and maybe next time our luck might run out. Writing this, I realise that luck has been my constant companion. From climbing over my dead and dying home town without a scratch to safety, to finding this tent and enough supplies to keep us going were the result of a string of miracles. At any time our luck could have run out. Maybe next time we might not be so lucky. Scotland is our only hope. This afternoon, and as I made my decision, a shooting star crossed overhead. Never seen one in broad daylight. Openly read it as a good omen.
Convinced Amy that we should move to Scotland and am surprised that she has relatives who live near Glasgow. I’m dumbstruck. Why didn’t she mention them before? Then again why didn’t I suggest moving to Scotland before. She started to cry when I said we would have to leave her mum behind, but quickly reassured her that one day we would come back for her. The lightshow continues. Saw a few more meteors cross overhead and in all directions. As I write this the sky is lit up with a myriad of shooting stars.
12 August 2014
More meteors and more planning. I think it will take six to eight days to reach Scotland - walking 12 miles a day. Amy is back to her normal self and I’ve returned her to her corner of the tent. Then she does it again. “Today is my birthday!”. What? How does she know? Because she is now four and knows when her birthday is, and sometimes I talk about what I’m writing, so when I mention today‘s date, she knows that today is her birthday. Simple! And I need a shave, apparently! And I tell her that she needs a bath. I throw her a couple of packets of crisps and she throws them back. I then throw her a couple of packets of crisps that she likes and is content, but not much of a birthday for her. Her mum is outside and her dad is where exactly?
Remembered something! Tomorrow we are going on a short journey - perhaps to bring some belated birthday joy to Amy. We also need to stretch our legs.
15 August 2014
Another frightful experience and one that almost killed us both. Months ago I remember coming across a child’s rag doll inside an abandoned car, not far from the tent. Thought it would make an excellent birthday present for Amy. We have enough food, but we needed the exercise on what was a warm and sunny day. As we walked across a dozen or so open fields the light show above became more intense, then not looking where we were going, I tripped head over heals and ended on my bottom. Amy laughed and we just stood there looking up at the shooting stars - silent and just incredible to watch. We eventually found the car and the rag doll, and Amy was over the moon with delight.
After checking the glove compartment (found some Paracetamol, ironically), we headed for home. Hadn’t walked that far when we heard a faint rumble in the distance behind us. We looked round and saw the first of hundreds of meteors as they started to slam into the ground - each resulting in an explosion - some bigger than others. We just ran for our lives as impact after impact became closer and closer, which quickened our pace. In the end I just grabbed Amy and ran. Finally and with nowhere to shelter we hid behind a stone wall - not knowing if the end would come.
Writing this, the end did come, but not for us. The meteor shower continued and so did the impacts, but for us the worst is over. Some impacts came very close, but we made it back to the tent, which also survived. Someone IS looking over us. We survived another nightmare. The meteor shower continued for another two days, but the impacts abated. Time to think about moving on. I think we need some more supplies, but soon we will start on our adventure to Scotland - meteor showers permitting.
17 August 2014
Quiet day. Very few meteors and no impacts. Decided to see if we could recover a meteorite and end up finding a red-hot glowing piece of rock, days after it slammed into the ground. Tomorrow we’re going out to search for some more food and a safer water supply. We need to find a way to carry our supplies, and in all honesty I might have to bribe Amy into carrying something. Thoughts drift to what we will find in Scotland.
Me thinks "The Lost Diaries of John Smith" would make an excellent TV series! I'm just saying...
As with all my Steemit content, this post and my book "The Lost Diaries of John Smith" are the copyright of Phillip Rhodes (c) 2011-2017.
