Recovered document · Paleto Motel room 3
Kewon TonTon
Six days on double-sided paper. Cover, three leaves, back board. The rest of the book is blank — or torn out. Not on the radio. Not on the board.
Kewon TonTon Diary — Day 1
Woke up in this raggedy Paleto Motel and ion even know how I got here.
First thing I smell is dirt and wet and some green shit that don’t belong in no room. Big ass root bust through the wall by the bed.
Outside look dead. Then I hear it. A wet draggin sound and a moan that don’t sound right.
They call it the Bloom. South already gone. The green already listenin.
Day 2
The root done grew another inch overnight. Green smell thicker.
A walker dragged past the ice machine with vines out its back. I stayed low till it passed.
Kicked a vending machine. Two bags of chips. Hands still shaky. That old itch ain’t gone.
Day 3
Left the motel. People said an old man still holds the vineyard.
He said most folks who come up here turn into plant food. Traded chips for jam and water.
Said “it listens and it remembers.” Tomorrow I’m headin toward Sandy.
Day 4
Road toward Sandy is fucked. Two walkers swaying in the asphalt. Didn’t even try me.
Gas station half swallowed by green. First aid kit, beans, a rusty knife.
Camped in the garage. Green still listenin in the walls.
Day 5
Edge of Sandy. Smoke off trailers. Hard faces.
Roach runs the Dust Dogs. Eat and sleep inside the wire if I put in work.
They let me in for the night. Still got the itch. Green still out there.
Day 6
Scavenge run. Metal bat, antibiotics, cans. Roach let me keep the bat.
Mouse said the Bloom ain’t just growin. It’s rememberin.
Inside the wire. For now I’m ridin with the Dust Dogs.
The rest of the book is blank. Or torn out.
The green already listenin.
Grab the cover and pull it left
He woke up in Paleto. He walked the vineyard. He hit Sandy with the Dust Dogs. The green was already listening.
Put it back. Map.