NESSIE THIRTEEN
(At last! Here we have a solution to that ancient Scottish mystery… or do we?)
That Saturday night when it happened, I’d had a great evening at our local hostelry close by the Loch. We’d been celebrating Scotland’s big football win that evening and, after all the good food and drink the landlord served, I’d had several more drams than usual. Without doubt, that was the right formula for initiating a nightmare, if that’s what it was.
It was dark when I woke up, still only half-dressed of course. There was this weird apparition, at the foot of the bed, staring at me. It definitely wasn’t human, not with long flat arms and a big head on a long stalk. I was petrified. It was opening and closing its mouth like a stranded fish. I couldn’t see the rest of its body. It must have
