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August 11, 1677

A Ghost

Well, I awoke ten minutes ago with a pounding headache to find myself naked beneath the table in my study, clutching an empty tankard of rum in one arm and a jar of dead leeches in the other. Sadly, this is not the first time this has happened…

But I digress. My recollection of today's disastrous memorial for Patrick is somewhat shaky, but I remember enough to know that it was a fitting sendoff for him, populated as it was by a procession of anxious scholars who were more at ease with the palsied ape that had been procured for the event than they were with the parade of whores, thieves, and gibbering idiots who filled out the list of attendees that Sean had spent the last three nights feverishly rounding up. Oh yes, and there was also a ghost.

Not content, apparently, with classifying the different orders of mollusk that can be found at the bottom of the ocean where his body lies, Patrick's spirit evidently felt a need to intrude upon our little service and terrify the beleaguered guests – who were already on the verge of rioting after sitting through Sean's (two-hour-long) eulogy, which had finally arrived at an interesting segment in which Sean had pulled open his shirt and was beating his chest in anguish, while the whores shouted catcalls and the scholars from the Royal Society attempted to hide beneath their seats.

I do not pretend to understand this apparition, and I am in no state to make sense of it at the present moment, but I know that I saw with my own eyes two figures – both the very likeness of Patrick himself (though very much the worse for wear) – standing on the outskirts of the crowd and looking on with a mixture of disgust and what appeared to be constipation. Since, by that point in the proceedings, I was seeing two of everything else, I am willing to concede that one of those figures was likely a figment of my imagination, but there can be no denying the fact that a disturbingly Patrick-like individual was among the guests at Patrick's funeral.

I may comfort myself at least with the knowledge that should this spirit choose to haunt me, he will be hard-pressed indeed to aggravate me more than Patrick did when he was alive. I shall look further into this mystery tomorrow, when the world is spinning less vigorously.


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