The Ishcrin Affair
by Gareth Vaughn
8 September 189–
Another disappointment of the journey. As if the loss of half the luggage and the bout of food poisoning weren’t enough, now the train is delayed for repairs due to some spoilt brat’s affinity for setting highly flammable textiles alight under the nose of a less-than-attentive caregiver. By the time I return to Chicago it will be as though I’ve traveled a full year, not the month this will end up taking.
Ah, I can see already this entry is written in irritation—I am pressing pen to page so hard the tip is scratching up the paper at the end of every word. Still, I anticipated none of this heartache when old Mr. Richards urged me to take this trip in his place. He is of less energy by the day, no longer inclined to go running about the
