Chopper

There is a helicopter outside, hovering above the house. What is wrong with him? Why doesn't he go away? Those blades are churning my guts up and distracting me from... I dunno, whatever I was doing.

I'm told a bomb was dropped in my front garden during WW2, landing right on the spot where there is now a magnolia tree. You don't expect that out here in the sticks, but it seems the Nazi bomber was aiming for the old RAF base a couple of miles south and started popping caps on his approach. Not exactly the kind of thing that happens twice, but sometimes I look at that spot and wonder... What if there was a break in the space/time continuum? You never know.

Wait, maybe that helicopter outside is tracking someone? An escaped lunatic perhaps?

I'm off to check the back door. If I don't come back, I'm loon-fodder. You'll see it on the news: MAN GETS KILLED BY ESCAPED LUNATIC. Then they'll find out about my books, and swap "author" for "man". Journalists will find this post and use the WW2 bomb thing as a interesting bit of trivia. People will flock to my website until it gets shut down. My next book will come out postumously and go into multiple print runs due to the morbid curiosity factor.

Um, I just locked the back door, so I guess none of that will happen now. But wait... what's that sound? Not a helicopter now, definitely a plane. But not a jet, more like a... a Messerschmitt! Sounds like she's heading south, aimi