Professor Coffin beamed. “Do you have to admire the craftsmanship of witchcraft?” Madison asked. “Bonk him over the head with it,” I suggested. “Let him feel the full brunt of it.” “My skull is soft now that I am a hitch,” Professor Coffin said. “Be gentle if you bonk me with that spyglass.” We had gingerly stepped ashore on Crypt Island. Nothing had devoured us as of yet. Although there did seem to be some sort of invisible tether holding us to Doctor Fast. Witchcraft was keeping us on an invisible leash. The symbolism was looking grim but you couldn’t let that fool you. The being utterly ignored was the more ominous piece. Why weren’t we being more forcefully tormented? Perhaps our torment was to be ignored. I tried to put my mind at ease. My torment was to be ignored. What was the big deal? I had been largely ignored my entire life. Why get exercised at this latest slight? We were looking through glass telescopes that had popped up out of the shoreline boulevard like mushrooms.
