I'm starting to get used to that smell, but not the feeling of being watched.

I don't think I could ever get used to that. Luckily, I won't have to get used to it.

If I can just find my car. The desert dirt crunches under my shoes as the foul wind whips past me.

My girlfriend's words from hours earlier, rattle around my brain like the occasional empty beer can,

blown past me by the wind.

One of these days, you're going to run into serious trouble. She said as I was leaving the

apartment. You get lost. They won't be found until it's too late. I don't know how much more of

this I can take, Charlie. It's like I'm dating a cop or a soldier, and it's too much damn stress.

I'm not a cop. I'm not a soldier. In fact, I'm a screenwriter who has never sold a script,

working part-time at a gym, and part-time taking freelance photographs for sites like deposit photos.

Ever since I got lost in the San Bernardino National Forest on a photography excursion,

Beth has been stressing. When we had the argument, I thought she was being silly. Now, I'm not so sure.

I look over my shoulder, seeing dark splotches of night move in the distance.

Unsure if it's my imagination or not. I had been hoping for a clear night.

The weather report I read before setting out said that it was supposed to be cloudless,

but as I stand among the ruins of a once thriving community,

I can't see a single star above me. Of course, there's no moon. I knew that.

It was one of the reasons I came out to the salt and sea today.

I wanted to use my new camera to take some photographs of the stars.

And I knew that without the light from the moon, I'd be able to get clearer shots of the stars.

Maybe even some time lapse photography.

But of course, the clouds rolled in as the sun abandoned this side of the world,

...