Logophobia

"And so Logos struggled whilst the waters overcame him. Lo, it was too late, and the waters didst consume him."

- Andre's Diary


Today I found a box in the attic. Because of my sadness at my father's death, I found that taking the things that once belonged to him was a task far too emotionally taxing. Now, precisely one month and seven days after his death, I wish only that I had discovered this thing sooner.

The book is strange, written almost like the bible in manner and in verse. It seems to chronicle the journey of someone named Logos, and my hands tremble for some unknown reason every time I turn the pages. It is as if something dreadful waits inside, some deep dark secret, drawing me in . . .

Consuming me.

Alas, I cannot continue any longer. I won't bring it back to my house, I feel that the temptation would be too great.

The house is to go up for auction, and all the contents within sold to the highest bidder. May whoever recieves this book have more luck than I with it.


What's this? As I replaced the book in its box a sealed envelope fell out. It has my father's name written on it!

I don't have much time, I'll just put it in my pocket and be on my way . . .