I expect that by now you will be having The Dream.
No, not the Martin Luther King one. The other one.
The one where you are in a vast antiques warehouse, idly inspecting spittoons, liqueur glasses etched with tiny windmills, air warden helmets and olivetti typewriters – when all of a sudden you hear a cry:
‘The sheep is burning!’
Sure enough, there stands a sheep before you, smiling sweetly. Its wool is smoking. It does not seem to mind.
In the unreliable way of dreams, you are now at home. The TV is on. The news headlines proclaim that You are the Rogue Sheep-Burner. Your email inbox is full of emails denouncing your wicked, sheep-burning ways.
Fear not, dear Reader. This is perfectly normal.
In order to make the transition to the world beyond you must put aside the objets of yesteryear.
And of course, dear Reader, there is only one way for Ada Lamb to rise from the ashes.
* No sheep were harmed in the writing of this blog post.