Dear Lord! Is it true? Did my eyes deceive me? Or did I receive an unearthly visitation last night?

For, after retiring bedwards and reading a few light chapters of Benby's "Callow Andrews Intoxicates" I become aware of some mystic presence before me. Glancing up quick sharp, I was horrified to see my poor sweet :;.^. - clear as life and yet dead from me these past eight months! What?!

:;.^., the finest beauty of the chin people, who I sired while a guest of the %¬¬ tribe of the southern lowlands. Sweet :;.^., slain and yet crystal clear bright to my eyes, so clear that I could observe her magnificent jagged fronds (the envy of the tribe) as easy as the first day we met.

Ah :;.^., I can still remember that day in the lagoon to the east of the settlement. I, wading through the stinkoil towards the furthermost shore where the lucky fruit of the chickentree hung overhead (such was my obsession for that delicious sweetmeat).

But all thought of chickenfruit was erased from my mind as she rose before me out of the inky mire beneath - a big sploosh by which she made herself known, then a swift headshake to remove the moisure from her glistening gills. I knew, at that point, that she must be mine.

:;.^. was the tribe's most elligible damson, and promised to the ¦¦¦/¦ tribe whose village was across the stinkoil itself. A peace offering and tribe-marriage was intended, and my taking her caused a terrible war between these two chin-factions that claimed thousands of lives, and which I imagine continues to this day.

That, however, is one of those pitiful sad results that follow the pursuit of science. And I am, foremost, a scientist.

Pretty :;.^., could it be you?