4

4 "What?" you ask. "Cut!" the old man imitates the sound with his hand. "Cut it out, nobody cares. Go back home!" Instead of pursuing the man's logic, you follow him from a distance.
After an hour of tracing your steps, you stop. The mime merges with the horizon, and you turn north.
Despite the colder nights, you've determined to return to Lexington. The situation is too complex to ignore. Ever since it emerged, it's been growing. Without a simple way out, it has been eating you alive.
A few nights later, the old man finds you sleeping on the porch of an abandoned motel. "Too many twigs in your pack," he says, scratching his bald head. "What?" you try to utter, somewhat paralyzed between this wakeful figure and a deep dream.
He drops his things. "Donuts if you want." The smell of freshly baked fat calms your nerves. "Uh, did you follow me?" you ask.
"Cut!" the old man says and scurries off, abandoning his things. "Huh?" you stand puzzled, wondering if the old man intends to return. You also wonder if he is following you, or if you followed him.
[To stay and find out, go on to chapter 5. Otherwise, return to chapter 3]