His name is John Buford Gone. Not much was known about him , at first. Other than he hardly said much. His name was located on his identification when they brought him in. Now, he’s been around the town helping out, ever since.

He stands 5′11, and upright. He has light, brown hair and skin that’s scarred, and olive.  He has big arms and hands that could crush rock. He is as gentle as the day he was born. I’ve never heard a single complaint, yet.

He often plays with the children in the schoolyard, when he finishes mowing the grass. He sits in the park and feeds the birds. He volunteers down at the local hospital, every Wednesday. He plays crib down at the legion with the war veterans.

However, when they found him the first night, down by the creek near Old Man Reed’s place. The kids who found him, said he had blood all over him. The only wounds he had on him,were self inflicted. He told everyone from day one, he only remembers falling.

There hasn’t been any strange incidents since his arrival. Everything has been relatively normal. I don’t personally have any issues towards the man. Except, I have been asked to stage a series of murders and then frame him.

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