Hello! Pius Bunkum at your service. Philanthropist and adventurer. Fish expert and kaleidoscope hobbyist. Ignored poet, inventor. Typewriter repairman at Babbel & Gobbington...
Typewriters are often sent in mid-sentence you know--with the paper still in them. I've seen some strange things, let me tell you. Snippets from alcohol dreams, vampyric haiku, interpretations of zen calligraphy from the opium den. I've seen it all! I say, there was once even a faded list titled 'The Definitive Blueprint for Water'...
But all this is to digress.
I want to tell you about what I found that day, sticking out of the old Remington. Great clunking thing it was. The typewriter, that is. Which I dropped on my foot. It was then that a thin book, sheathed as it was in worn leather, slid out from under the keys.
I noticed it, lying there on the floor, only after I'd finished thanking my lucky stars that I'd thought to wear my steel-capped brogues that day...
The Book of Circles (for that was what it was called) listed three chapters in its index. The first was Father Time; the second the Lexis Demiurge. The third was smudged and quite impossible to read.
Right up my alley all this, I tell you.
