Four years ago today, on a whim, I bought a musty tome from the university library’s book sale. A large book, but old, it had seen many years pass while it sat in the dim recesses of the library. When it spied it amongst the pulp fiction and reference books for sale that day, I thought I had found an uncanny bargain. Little did I know at the time that the book in question would come to haunt me, to infiltrate my thoughts and dreams, to follow me across three continents and alter the course of my life.
It is with some hesitation that I divulge the information herein contained, for it has blurred the lines that I use to distinguish one world from the next and frayed my very sanity. The tome is with me even now, calling out its name whilst I sleep…
Shakespeare…
I caution you, readers, take heed or the bard may soon haunt your nightmares as well.
Shakespeare On The Rocks 