Something was sure to go wrong. Ichabod couldn't say what or why, but he knew it. Yesterday had lulled him into a sense of false security, where he had handwavily immersed himself in the wonders of the Wikipedia, but today he faced the real world, which, in this place, was entirely uncertain and unpredictable ( Read more... )

The coach was already leaving the outskirts of his hometown behind. Ichabod Crane gazed across the fields, where there were still faint traces of the morning fog, illuminated by pale sunlight. The fellow travellers - a young woman with a sleeping baby and an elderly man already snoring - offered little opportunity for conversation, and to tell the ( Read more... )

I haven't written one of these in a long time!( The newbie )

"Good day. This is Ichabod Crane, Esquire. If you'd be so kind as to please leave your name and an address where I can reach, and I will return this correspondence in a timely manner. Now what do I press?"

Comments, suggestions, criticisms?