Welcome, traveller. If you’re here, you must be lost! Take care, some of these dark passageways may be booby-trapped…
I offer my apologies; I am a poor host. I have been absent a long time. The moss grows on my rolling stone, and the poison on my darts has dried into a bitter crust. So feel free to dance across the floor because, to be honest, none of the traps work, any more – I got the skeletons from Amazon and the blood stains are all fake.
The cobwebs aren’t. Those are real.
Oh? Leaving so soon? That’s a shame. I was just brewing some burnt toast tea. It looks like coffee and if you dream really hard, you can almost imagine it tastes like it, but it costs a lot less. Then I was going to tell you about my new project…
drum roll
I’m learning to write poetry!
Yeah, yeah, don’t worry… I won’t give up the day job.