In the late afternoon, Jeeves is still out playing chess with Redding. The rooms have of course been cleaned to perfection before the manservant's departure, so the handwritten letter on the silver tray on the end-table is all the more noticeable. It reads, in familiar cursive scrawl:

Bertie ( Read more... )

The ship is a lovely one - steam billows from its impressively-painted stacks, rising in thick endless puffs into the chilly morning sky. It seems to somehow fuel the surrounding commotion. People of every kind are shoulder to shoulder, both on the dock and the boat. Ticket men stand on boxes to yell out numbers and costs, times and names. Security ( Read more... )

It is a crisp November morning in London. The trees rustle with the faint wind as the foot traffic in the streets below shuffle along - it is otherwise pleasantly still in the world. The sun is shining through a thin veil of pale grey clouds ( Read more... )

While I am unsure of exactly what content might befit a journal such as this, I shall endeavour to do my best in relating tales of interest.

( A Brief Biography )