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Dearest Gentle Reader,
What a week this has been. This Author finds herself in the peculiar position of having witnessed so many varieties of incompetence, contradiction, and sheer audacity that she has been forced to take her tea in increasingly rapid succession merely to process it all. The pattern, dear Reader, is unmistakable: those charged with governance have proven themselves supremely incapable of actual governance, whilst those least qualified to operate have done so with the confidence of the thoroughly unaware.
The week commenced with smugglers and strikes, proceeded through tales of wrongful imprisonment and criminal enterprise on the high street, and involved a most bewildering relaxation of sanctions paired with desperate appeals to grocers. Wednesday brought pilots conducting aerial theatrics and former ministers campaigning via podcast, whilst Friday delivered invisible survivors and investigations most grave. Saturday brought a sun so ferocious it has begun melting even His Majesty’s dignity, and Sunday crowned the week with a spy bereft of his credentials and a border system that managed to collapse without even attempting to function.
The heat, dear Reader, grows unbearable. Whether from the climate or from such concentrated governmental chaos, This Author cannot determine.