Rumours of a Sequel

Wednesday. The builders are at it again. There is talk of another chapter, another room, somewhere in their great workshop. Nobody will tell me what it is called, where it will go or when it will open.

The story keeps getting longer and I keep not winning. There is the sanctum, here and in Sydney. There is that school by the sea in Manly, with its eclipse and its headmistress. There is a university in Melbourne with an owl who, I am told, stares. And now something else.

I have sent the builders my demands for the next one. A larger part for me. A chair outside the walls. A cloak with a proper lining. A scene in which I win, even a short one, even just at the start.

No reply. So I read the headmistress’s journal to see whether she knows anything. She does not, and she mentions me only in passing, which is worse.