It starts three feet from one end of the porch. There is a ragged hole in the wooden planks that gets bigger every day. I placed an old piece of plywood over it for safety reasons.

Who knows what lurks down in that pitch black pit.

I’ve got to get it fixed.

…

He’s up there again. I hear him walking. Each step bends the planks and I think he is going to come down on top of me. I heard him say he wants to fix the hole. If he does that he might see me. That is not going to happen. This is my home.