Doctor Who and the Boring Accountants and Zombies

...is not the latest addition to the Brainsssslit genre, but only my dream last night. 

I and all the abovementioned were trying, in a very-much-at-cross-purposes way, to solve a mysterious English village murder, of the flavour Agatha Christie generally farmed out to Miss Marple.  We appeared to have insufficient Brainsssss between us for the job.

The Fourth Doctor's attempt to distract a zombie at a critical juncture by performing the Dance of the Single Scarf is an image which shall live long in infamy, however much I wish it wouldn't.

Night Bled Dry

Killer-Kate and Luke Lackland: 700 words.  A guard's-eye view of the Night Without Stars, and the horror of the world's meaning changing over one's head, and the strangeness of finding comfort in the sparse stony counsels of nuns.  Now comes a morning unrested and hazy, and I must home in on the Young Duke again.

Now I must see if I can catch some better sleep than usual, myself.  This week at work is going to be long and long.