Also, I'm finished with the Wee Scrabulous Tourney so have more time for domestic matters. It wasn't as total a humiliation as I'd expected for I did manage to win one game - and against the formidable Lady Cassandra no less.
So with all the washing of groceries and hoovering of floors I found myself wide awake way beyond my usual sleepy-time. I'm sitting up in bed reading the Sunday papers (and not even last Sunday's - I'm behind with everything) and I look at the clock and it's nearly one and I think, time you had the light off missus. Then there was this strange, brief, creaking, achey noise like nothing I'd ever heard before. I put it out of my mind, went to sleep and dreamed I was a serial killer.
In the dream I kept disposing of the bodies in the water beside Dinsmore's factory. I was hefting the seventh or eighth one in when I thought to myself,
Oh God! I am a serial killer.
The corpses were nobody I knew. Just middle-aged men. Just men who'd annoyed me in some way. Earthquakes are very unsettling.