This weeks fun words: Temples Clock Discreet Throb Emblem Envelope Brume (mist, fog) Chantage (Blackmail) Aloof Anonymous Misshapen Skim
Foggy Brume was not a popular person; he and his wife Misty lived in the back end of town and were what one might describe as shadowy characters. Foggy was the sort of man from whom you’d expect a letter of chantage containing photos of one self in some compromising position with a letter of demand and a threat of ‘or else’. Needless to say that at this time of year Foggy didn’t feature on my Christmas card list.
Foggy on the other hand saw life as a whole different to most folks. He and Misty liked being aloof. There hermetic life suited them as they enjoyed their own company.
Most days they sat with the newspaper and solved the cryptic crossword before having morning tea. Foggy had a head full of anonymous facts, in fact on days when his head throbbed with knowledge he would complain to Misty who would then gently rub his misshaped head with a balm she had purchased from the Buddhist temple they had visited in Japan on their last overseas trip. In fact they had visited many temples, climbed many stairs, listened to numerous tour guides and at last had come to the temple where the balm was available. It was a rare mix of skim yaks milk, secret herbs and spices and a lot of good luck. Rubbed into Foggy’s temples it did just the trick to sooth his aching brow.
That day as the clock struck its familiar twelve o’clock; the postman placed an envelope in their letterbox. Upon opening the letter Foggy and Misty marvelled at the bright and brilliant emblem that adorned the letterhead.
The letter was from Sirus O’Malley the Irish Private Eye they had contracted to find Foggy’s long lost brother, Murk. Murk had wandered off one day into the Amazon jungle and had not been seen since.
Discreet Investigations had made a breakthrough; Murk had been found alive and well, living the high life in the Amazon jungle with a tribe of natives who all insisted on remaining anonymous.
Foggy’s head once again throbbed, but this time with pleasure. He took up his pen to write to his brother, addressed carefully the envelope, checked the clock to see if he could make the afternoon mail. If there was one thing Foggy was good at it was chantage and his brother would not be spared a Foggy letter of demand or threat of ‘or else’.