Dear Constant Reader of a writer in peril,
My bloodthirsty couch is at it again, it wants to kill me. I cannot say too much at this moment because I am busy fleeing for my life. I know of a hideout in the slums of Rosettenville that might provide some cover. I will tell you more of what has been happening in the past month when I get there.
In the meantime pray for me.
