Journal, Tuesday 22.02.11

This morning, I was searching the bookshelves in the living room, looking for another one of Harrison's father's diaries, when I came across a removable panel at the back of one of the shelves. Behind the panel, I found a red button and contemplated the idea of pushing it for an hour or more.


And then, Dicky and I switched places, I was forced to think the situation over for six more hours.
This evening, I came to the conclusion that whatever the button did, good or bad, our father's must have had a good reason for concealing it. I won't be press it until I can figure out what it does.


I'm tired. I have to sleep.