./~ the world around her shoulders cold and grey ~\.

[chess]

I shouldn't spod, but I feel I should record my encounter with the Magic Porter of Door-Opening. Having returned to my room, my door refused to open. At this point I carefully checked the room letter, the other doors to reassure myself I was on the right staircase, and even the room number on my key. All of these things agreed that I should be able to open this door with this key, so I went in search of some porters, on the grounds they can do anything. Returning be-portered (after much derision at the idea of old men like them walking across to 47J from the plodge, and the traditional joke of them being over in an hour or so), I tried and failed to enter using the porter's magical powers of embarrassment, but in fact the porter had to wield the key themselves for the magic to work. Confirming my second theory, that I'm currently as weak as a dead kitten.

Goodnight.

Comments

[timeplease.livejournal.com]

No, I was lying, Alex Blewitt lived in 47J from 1993-1996. I lived in 47H.