7 January

Today was  hot, that kind of muggy, oppressive heat that makes you want to sit in the shade under a fan with something icy.  By late afternoon, I felt I would be safe enough working on the garden and at first, yes, I was the only one there. But a few others came up later and I was so engrossed they caught me unawares. Someone called Caleb, a woman whose name I think is Bianca. Certainly Caleb called her Bee.  I suspect they may be the parents of my correspondent.  And some others, I do not remember their names. But no harm done, they did not need to talk, only work.  (Do not be proud of me because I managed to stay despite the company. The heat was a kind of armour of its own.) The garden is still not its former self, but it is perhaps as good as we can make it for now.

But now for my troubles, I find some creature has bitten me.  Possibly creatures,there are welts all over my body, small and large. You will be amused to hear that my right breast is bright red and hot, like the devil’s own tit. Nothing alleviates it.

Yours in agony

the Ghost Knight



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