Dear Nobel Diary,
I'm writing to you as a ghost. It's pretty cool! just floating around, holding a pencil. It's amazing how I can still hold these things!
I'm still in the basement. I haven't gone up to the deck yet. But last night I heard feet dancing around on the floor above me. Maybe they found land... I don't know. After this, I think I might go see.
My body, laying on the ground... it's so sad to see me there. I had to pry this journal out of my own hands. No one came down to help me. No one... This won't be the last of what I have to say to them.