There was a knock at the door- Mr Jones was right on time. Madame L'Estrange wafted ethereally down the stairs of her Federation townhouse towards the outer door. Smiling quixotically, she admitted the short, balding visitor.
'I have always loved a warm open fire', declared Madame L'Estrange as she sat opposite her newest client. 'But enough of this small-talk; your aura appears troubled. I sense you have a story to tell me. Tea?'
Jones took the proffered cup and saucer, and sipped pensively. Finding the liquid too hot, he discovered a handy side-table, and with hands unfettered he shrugged and began his tale.
17th place (out of 34) in the 3rd Annual Interactive Fiction Competition.
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