A strange, small follow-up to my most popular story.
A Curiosity at the Establishment of Madame Z___________ is the most visited story on my website (according to the incredibly janky built-in view tracking tools that I refuse to replace with anything more sophisticated and invasive.) Perhaps, this is because I unwittingly named the titular proprietress after a modern burlesque singer, but I like to believe that the narrative had a little something to do with it.
Or perhaps it's because THIS PSYCHEDELIC SWORDFISH ART IS SO INCREDIBLY RAD.
(Incidentally, I originally named the character "Madame B," but changed it after I mocked up the cover and realized that B_________ had certain typographical connotations I had not intended.)
Anyways, I've always had a soft spot for the story – and always thought that it could have a little bit more to say. Exactly what this was took me a very long time to find, but, at long last, here it is.
If you haven't read the original story yet, it's not going to make much sense (but then, the original story didn't make much sense, either… OR DID IT?) If you decide that you'd like the context, you can find the first story here.
Anyhows, here you go! A brief Coda, which illuminates only what you want it to…
An afterword by the _______________ Dispatch
The above constitutes the final published work of Mssr. V_______________, longtime correspondent of this publication, though it is, sadly, far from his last written work.
Those who may have read his other writings will, no doubt (as we did), wonder that one who had dispassionately reported so much change with such objective detachment and peerless professionalism should, in the last 11 months of his life, so lose himself to maudlin indulgence and superstition more suitable to the antics of the theater than the rational pages of this paper. To see such a scion of the mind fall prey to eccentricity in his dotage is a sober reminder to us all that the freedom of the intellect is no gift, but a duty that must be guarded against a cavalcade of usurpers.
Of the many pieces submitted to us by Mssr. V_______________ over what we did not then know to be his final months, we are happy to say that every single manuscript was rightly discarded with the rest of the office refuse.
This published piece we have preserved, despite the popularity which it has gained amongst those undesirable elements now reemerging from their caves in an attempt to exert once more their barbaric influence upon society. Had we known at the time that this seeming indictment of pre-revolutionary frivolity and superstition was, in fact, the first signs of a great mind in decline, we would have refused its publication as we did the author's subsequent offerings, which fairly broke our desks with the weight of their benighted irrationality. As it has sadly been made public by our unknowing hand and now been taken up by those forces that we have set ourselves to dispel from our inception, we are placed in the current unpleasant position. To silence this work is to give it to the enemy.
Instead, we have presented to you here the original report of Mssr. V_______________ as it first appeared in this publication, devoid of embellishment by priest or spiritist. We ask, now that you have read its strange story, that you keep in your guarded, rational mind these things:
The author of this report lived the remaining months of his life in increasing erraticism and poverty, producing works of such derangement that even very close friends as ourselves could not, in good conscience, put them to public page.
He died, alone, on a park bench in _______________ , where he is believed to have been living for some months after eviction from his last lodging for failure of payment and the annoyance of his fellow tenants.
Out of deference to the man we had once known, this publication took on the expense of Mssr. V_______________'s burial in accordance with the wishes he had expressed when he was still of sound mind. The medical examination of the body revealed a tumor of the brain weighing no less than _____ grams of dimensions that the surgeon at the task likened to an apricot.
The funeral was attended somberly by those who remembered his lucid years, while the gendarmerie were summoned to drive out the beggars and indigent artists who had become the companions of his irrational decline. The continued presence of these elements is well documented, and the obvious explanation for the lurid superstitions now repeated by foolish mouths about the grave.
We have visited the site only yesterday and can say with certainty that it does indeed smell of turpentine and sandalwood. We can also say that a bloody-bandaged vagrant stood, brush in one hand and bottles in the other, anointing it with these things.
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