Date Missing
Well, here's a pretty how-de-doo! The airship
is falling out of the sky, and we have only minutes
to live. I am writing in my journal here as my last
will and testament. I bequeath all of my wealth
and remaining trust from my parents to my cousin
Abeforth. He is young and will benefit most.
Aunt and Uncle, please find a respectable way to
distribute the plot of land in Essex and the cottage
in Hertfordshire. I want to be remembered for
more than just crashing into the sea! Perhaps you
could give them to some destitute tenant farmers,
or widowed mothers? And please, whoever executes
this will, please, please make sure that Perdina Meeks
does not get her hands on the silken petticoats I
left behind in the closet. One is made of the rarest
spider-silk, and she has wanted them since we were
children, but it's extremely valuable, and it may not
look it, but she will come asking about it, and I'm
sure that you must not give it to her.
Love, Philomena.
FLIGHT SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS
sensational novel she is reading, and she is quite
unwilling to be coaxed away from its pages.
The automatons have been behaving very
cordially, almost excessively attentive today as we
prepare to set sail. They were strangely vehement
that I relax. I was pressured more than once to take
a bath, or a refreshing beverage. I cannot recall them
being this friendly before.
I have agreed to help Mr. Vandenklamp after
luncheon. He has lost his wife somewhere on board
the ship. Maybe that little mystery will prove to be
some fun?