Twelve pages laid one on top of the other, folded in half, then stapled down the center to a thin cardboard-cover. The entire notebook was hand-made from repurposed scraps of paper trash. Aside from seven blank pages at the end of the book, small tight letters filled each page from gutter to paper edge. A diary of the terrors he had survived? Or were these written before the cataclysm? Only one way to discover which—but am I violating him by reading his private thoughts? Am I stealing from him if I re-record his words? But why write if not to have read? Just think your thoughts. He is dead anyhow. So...?
"Truly riveting," I thought, and turned the next page.