Thursday, August 16, 2012

The Journals of Sven Skarsnook: Day 14

I am beginning to suspect that this whole expedition is a cruel hoax, hatched by these giants who come and go as they please.

Let's consider the facts:

1) My "gear", as far as I can tell, consists of this knit cap. Where are my skis? My snowsuit? My mittens? My boots, fercryinoutloud?!
2) It's really not very cold. I mean, there's a nice breeze and sometimes I do need an extra blankie, but it's not exactly Arctic.
3) Where are my compatriots? I vaguely recall a few from the first few days -- and what a racket they'd make! -- but there's been no one but me for the last week or so. Except for those giants.
4) Shouldn't I have a map?

Anyhow. The Pole, needless to say, remains elusive -- or, as I now suspect, totally fictional. Snacks, at least, appear to be served when I want them. So I have that going for me.

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