A SCARY THOUGHT

Our numbers seem to be decreasing along with the length of night. Maybe our luck will hold out! Last night twas a terrible thing. I believe sir had gotten into some of his gin stores and lie awake for a length. So long he stayed awake I fear we may have lost close to six of our kind. I do hope master heals quickly. We feel him hobbling along the wretched old floor (having not been swept since his dears passing) and naught but sincere grieving can be felt through him. Tonight he has flipped through me again ,only in passing though, for he enjoys my illustrations. Etchings of gold and miscreants on a deserted island cannot be hated by any man. Such intrigue I have over the crippled old man... I do believe with all certainty that I shall outlast even him. Surely he is drunk tonight because oily breath moistens my leaves. Again, pity flows through me as I am dropped from his clammy palm onto the dusty planks, cover first, thank the maker. In morn he replaces me once more beside his other favoured stories; I am in ranks with tales of detective work and murder along with a much favoured romance. I do believe I will out last him. Wonder...