Brad had outrun the ghouls hours ago and they were now relaxing over cappuccinos. The ghouls had noticed Brad while practicing for a parkour championship and having never seen anyone so nimble and swift they simply wanted to ask him about his training techniques.

Brad ran until he found himself on a desolate moor, beneath a foreboding sky. And knew not whether the ghouls were still on his tail.

Brad recalled Clive’s lecture on the paradoxes of Zeno. The ghouls would have to narrow the distance between themselves and Brad by half. And then by half again. And the divisions by half would extend to infinity. Thus the ghouls would never reach him.

But Brad wasn’t dreaming. He’d simply missed a transition in the narrative of his life. And was now descending quickly from the roof, along a tenuous drainpipe, with the ghouls in hot pursuit.

Without knowing how it had transpired, Brad found himself being pursued across rooftops, by ghouls in stylish black activewear.

All day Brad wandered the darkened corridors in search of directives but encountered no one, not even the Well-Dressed Albatross. At nightfall he arrived at the niches once again. But Pim and Bim were gone and Brad felt the chill of solitude.

The next morning Brad discovered Pim and Bim occupying niches and jarred.

At 4:44 Brad awoke from a nightmare of failure and immolation and phoned Pim and Bim. Pim and Bim were thrilled to hear from Brad and said they’d be right over.

Brad found his bed with surprising ease and fell instantly into a dream of the Well-Dressed Albatross asleep on the roof. As was his custom the Well-Dressed Albatross had perched for the night on the roof and was dreaming of Brad.

The Well-Dressed Albatross had given Brad no instructions about sleeping arrangements for servants. Nonetheless, after leaving a plate of animal crackers by the chamber door of his employer, Brad moved speedily to bed. Some hideous force overriding his very will.