I keep hearing whispers… faint, breathy whispers that become audible in weird waves of increasing and decreasing volume. They follow me everywhere and have become more and more common of late. When they first started over two years ago they were too faint for me to distinguish words, but since last week, they’ve been getting clearer. They say things like: “How much for this yam?” and “I will go get a yam.” and “These are very fine yams.” and “I would also like a yam. Please give me a yam. Now. Now. Now.”
So there does seem to be a theme, but as yams don’t feature very prominently in my day-to-day, I can’t imagine what it has to do with me. What am I hearing, Alistair?
Now Craving Yams in Haikou
You’re beginning to tune into the slideways dimension considered home to a species of malevolent but obsessive entities. Their single-minded focus holds them at bay for the time being, as they have no need to take notice of a random passerby who occasionally hears them speaking of their true passion. Whatever you do, though, do not make a habit of eating yams. This will be tempting, as the voices will very probably cease for the duration of the meal. Be assured that this isn’t a respite; this is a thousand bloody-minded entities staring at you devouring the object of their desire like so many starving, intelligent, scheming dogs under the table. Don’t tempt them.