A warning

This evening started in delightful concentration in my drawing room. I had been cataloguing and re-ordering my extensive collection of animal sphincters, placing them into a cherrywood case in sections according to dilatability.

Occasionally I would call for my grumpy valet Brown to bring forth tea, or a platter of pickled mouse tails, or a flyjam sandwich, who would despatch them with his typical distaste, at one point pushing a laser printer off my desk in anger. The curmudgeon!

Regardless, the peaceful endeavour of itemising each anal orifice allowed me a little time to reflect upon my life and plans. More than ever, I longed to travel into the unknown lands once more, to kill or marry newly-met natives in the name of scientific endeavour, and to claim another patch of heathenry for Her Majesty.

Before this would be possible, however, I must gain further income through the subtle art of blackmail. My steady income from Mr Bertram Bertram is but a fraction of that needed for me to head out into the unknown. I promised myself I would find further dupes in haste.

But it was as I filed a particuarly impressive wolf sphincter, that I became aware of a presence in the room beside me. I looked around to see that my ghost bride had entered the drawing room and was standing looking impassively in my direction. I froze - although I had become used to these visitations, I was still unnerved by her presence.

"What do you want?" I asked commandingly. At this, the phantom raised its feathered arms to me and her distended eyes took on a pleading countenance.

"What is it?" I asked, with a little less self-control. As if to answer, she shook her tendrills dismissively, spattering ghostly sputum over my hearth rug. I recognised the gesture - it was used by her people as a warning.

"What? What is wrong?" I begged, falling down upon my knees.

At this, she raised her claw to a map of the world that I have on my wall, and made her first sound - a cry I recall many times from our delicious but unnatural love-making. "Mwoooooaaaaaaghh" she called, like a rabid fog horn. It was, in this context, an unnerving tone.

And then she was gone, disappeared in an instant.

Afterwards, I spent much time considering the meaning of her warning. Was I to meet with some fearsome end if I went away travelling? Or was I to find a new bride in the foreign lands?

I head to bed tonight with a brain full of dark thoughts. Let brandy be my guide through the night.