Things best left unseen

Missing? Me? What made you think that? Was it because I didn't answer the phone for three days running? (Forgot to pay the bills again.) Or maybe it was the fact that someone saw me get into an unmarked white van late last night. (If they'd kept watching, they'd'a seen the car door fly open and a grown man stumble out and start running for his life. He even left his knife and roll of duct tape behind, which is a bit thoughtless of him. To be fair, I don't think he was expecting that I would have a live ferret tucked into my pocket, or that said ferret bites people who try to touch areas where they really shouldn't.) Or maybe what tipped you off was the two weeks' worth of newspapers piled up on the doormat. (Journalists lie.)

And then there's always the decaying horse's head nailed to the door itself.

Let's just say that my neighbours have funny ideas about welcome baskets.

Anyhoo, I'm not missing. I've just holed myself up at home and tried to learn how to pick locks. Chronos will tell you that this is purely for research purposes (I'm writing a story, and we all know what happens when I write stories), but what she doesn't know is that I accidentally ... er ... locked the bathroom with the keys inside. (There is nothing as terrifying as a creative idiot.) So, in between poking tumblers with a paperclip, using a flat-headed screwdriver to apply torque, and ignoring my bladder, I didn't really have time to write anything. And I apologize for that.

Now I've got to go take the horse head down, it's starting to attract flies.

~Mnemosyne