The Professor Peregrine Papers

Halfway through a tense game of nine men's morris (in period costume), the Professor received an urgent call. "I must go," he said. "One of my students has been spotted levitating in the shopping centre again."

For some time now I've been assisting the Professor with the development of his new invention: a camera that records dreams. I confess that we've run into a few teething troubles and, for several weeks, the only image the camera produced was of a cat in a box that might not have been there at all. However, last night the Professor produced this convincing image which seemed an accurate reflection of one of his more mundane dreams. The Professor has suggested that the amount of cheese consumed at dinner may be significant. 

As a young man the professor found that his two interests, the works of Guillaume de Machaut and the solar neutrino problem, meant that friends were few and far between. In an attempt to fit in, he decided to take up a more popular hobby.  His new pastime of pointing at rivers soon earned him many admiring glances. 

I intended to spend the morning rereading the lyric poetry of Fred "The Demon" Spofforth but, for some reason, all I could think about was that momentous day on The Parade, Worthing. I remember that I was looking to the west, waiting to hear what message the man in the hat would pass on to me. I knew I would never think in quite the same way afterwards.

The Professor's tandem was once again seen floating above us for no obvious reason.

Following several unsuccessful attempts to explain the details of the Duckworth–Lewis–Stern method, the Professor demonstrated a typical scenario in his lab.  I hastily copied it down on the back of a discarded envelope.  I think I can confidently state that this experiment finally makes everything completely clear.

It was a magenta day half a lifetime in the past.  Did Brian really love Joy?  After many years of certainty, I now find that I have the ghost of a doubt.