To the Department of Auditing & Financial Compliance,
Firstly, please accept my apologies for the delay in sending this statement. It is rather an amusing story, actually. One shall keep it brief.
It was a hot summer’s evening, with conditions on City Road reminiscent of the long, humid days I spent travelling the borders of Southern India, where rickshaws clattered down dusty trails and the air was thick with the scent of mango wood (Maanga Maram) smoke and crushed cardamom (Elettaria cardamomum). It was only when Koconut Grove came into view that one realised the intoxicating aroma was not merely a memory.
Already charmed, and one must admit ravenous, I found myself further mesmerised by the nutty perfume of mustard seeds and freshly torn curry leaves dancing in hot coconut oil and so entered the establishment. There, I was drawn into spirited conversation with the chef as we shared memories of the spice-growing hills and lush tropical landscapes of his homeland, Kerala. Of course, with typical southern Indian hospitality, he insisted upon conjuring up a steaming bowl of velvety Semiya Payasam, so skilfully laced with freshly bruised green cardamom that it instantly transported me to the shimmering, humid trails of the Malabar Coast. A finer curry one has not sampled upon these shores.
Anyway… it subsequently transpired that one had, in fact, travelled in entirely the wrong direction to Upton (where one was heading on a mission to procure Insect and Avian Translation Experts). I therefore executed a U-turn, hence my unexpected return to the Town Crier from where I write this correspondence. This tale is indeed a timely reminder of what my late father impressed upon me:
“Phileas,” he would say, “a hungry operative is an inattentive operative.”
Oh, how right he was…ah, talking of hunger, one detects the sharp, peppery bloom of crushed basil and the warm musk of sun-baked vine tomatoes. How it reminds one of being on a wisteria-draped terrace overlooking the rolling, emerald hills of Tuscany…Oooh, one’s senses do not deceive; it is my luncheon.
I shall be right back just as soon as I have devoured this most delicious-looking pizza.
Phileas Moss Esq.