May 18. Day 138. Miracle worker

Good taste and defamation laws seriously restrain what I can say about today but I will go on record as saying I have felt better. In nursing homes, I'm told it is not uncommon for resident pets to sleep on the bed of a patient who is about to die. Somehow animals just know. I can only assume this is why my faithful fur friend Rumple slept by me on my pillow for most of the past 24 hours. This is just one reason I love him so much. But as I am not a ghost writer I clearly recovered just enough to eat plain toast and receive the wonderful news that an old fashioned pair of handcuffs would be required for a school drama performance tomorrow. Awesome. Nobody actually believed this was possible but perhaps it was the delirium that motivated me to give it a go. So I walked to West End and found myself in a shop that sold all sorts of odd stuff (in the way that only West End still would). They actually had authentic period handcuffs on sale for about $300. I may have been ill but not that ill. Still, said Brent the bloke behind the counter, he had a pair at home in his private collection he would lend me. Of course he did. Turns out I'd just found Wulfe possibly the only person in the whole city capable of delivering what I needed. And he did proving once again that you never know if you don't ask. Now where did I put the key again?