Hey Spacejerk

Everything's Wetter

Hey Spacejerk,

Got away from Dad's HomeDrone™ for a bit. I'm sure it'll find me soon enough, but I get a few minutes out of prison. Excuse me, I meant a few minutes out of the house. Guess I should thank you for years of chase-capades all over the city. If I had even a drop of interest, I might qualify as a halfway decent runner. Heck. Maybe I should take up martial arts, see what level I land at with my reflexes. I still hit the deck every time the bug zapper catches something because I half expect you to come bursting through a wall to trumpet about your latest plan.

Guess your shrieking did you some good, once you moved your rant into the house. You shot the audio receptors on my last spycam to hell, great job. I can still see you, though. Haven't seen anything indicative of a master plan for weeks, unless your plan is to outwait the battery life of my cam. Don't bother, it's one of Dad's old prototype energy packs. That cam will be transmitting long after I'm dead.

I haven't gotten to interact with people much, yet. Probably for the best. It's just so weird here. The scenery is so different. There's a lot of houses, still, but it's so much greener. You could probably blend right into the local scenery if you got rid of that stupid red dress. You'd hate it here, though. It gets this green because the air holds moisture like you wouldn't believe. I wonder, actually, if climate this humid might kill you. Not like there's no water in the city air, but you really take for granted how dry that air is until you move to a place where walking outside is like faceplanting into a warm, wet towel.

And don't get me started on the weekly downpours. You thought our little city rainstorms were bad, here thunder sounds like it's practically in the room with you. The whole sky lights up and the raindrops come down with a hefty smack. I've no doubt a short walk in one of our storms would peel you down to the bone in five minutes.

And then there's the sounds. I don't hear cars rushing by anymore. I don't hear police sirens or ambulances wailing. In the morning I hear birds, loud and close, chasing through the yard. In the evening I hear cicadas (that's a type of insect) screaming and I wonder what your reaction would be to such an eerie sound without knowing what it is. Where I'm sitting now, on the bank of a creek, I see a heron (a kind of long-legged bird) stalking the water. What would you do if you were here? Shoot it? Or try to catch it for your experiments?

Ah. There's a sound I'm familiar with. Looks like HomeDrone™ is on the hunt for the wayward crazed Membrane. Let's see if speed and reflexes can buy me a few more minutes of freedom.

-Dib

Note: Thanks for your feedback so far, I'm enjoying this journey too.