Entry 9.69/11
The thing that looks like Dean but smells of pigeon, came by today. He was carrying Sam on his arms, like that giant of a kid was nothing but a baby.
He looks right at me and for one flitting moment, I was gonna swear that he recognized me. Whatever hope I manage to gather about the end of my retirement years being over, is squashed clean as he walks right to me, his eyes emotionless and empty, opens my rear door, and gently places Sam's body inside me.
Not one word to me though, not one sign that I still mean anything more to him than handy seats to dump his load. Just a sleeping Sam, to keep me company.
It hurts more than being put under a compactor.