Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 28-06-2013

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Beaufort had passed the man before his brain served up the most tenuous of recollections and he turned.  “Lovecraft?” Beaufort asked, almost afraid the gaunt and pale rack of clothing before him would answer. It did. “Yes,” came the weary reply, “it is I.” “Gods, man! I’d heard you’d gone on some deep sea exploration – a fool’s errand, from which no one was expected to return!” “And yet I have returned, a bit alive and possibly foolish; I cannot be my own judge.” The dark circles accented the watery blue eyes. “Are you unwell?” Beaufort continued gently. “I am … fatigued,” came the reply. “I have returned to … I have … come to bring tidings of R’lyeh … “ “What’s that?  Glad tidings of the day?” “No,” Lovecraft replied darkly. “That is not what I said.”

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