Tales from the Boer’s Head

I’ve returned.

Mostly upright, mostly human, and mostly through whatever illness decided to drag me into the dark by my throat. The fever’s broken (for now), and I’ve restoked the hearth myself, though Management insisted on watching the entire time, just to be sure I didn’t drop dead into the kindling.

More stories are on the way. Some new. Some long overdue. Some that came whispering to me while I was fever-sick and dreaming in a language no one should understand. I’ve begun transcribing what I can. The rest… well, it’s still simmering.

Thank you to those who stayed through the silence.

Thank you to those who only recently found the door.

And to the ones knocking after hours: I hear you.

The stew is back on.

The fire’s warm.

And the rooms are, relatively, safe.

Just be sure you’re in yours before the hour turns.

Grin’s still hungry, and Management says they won’t be held responsible for unattended guests.

~

P.H. Boer

Innkeeper. Recovered. Fire-watcher.