The Adventures of Doc Moreau & I, 4: The Lepidoptera Express

‘Who spatchcocked these Atlas Moths?’ Doc Moreau asked, shrieking in his indignation. ‘The execution is poor,’ I conceded, trying to focus.

*

The Lepidoptera Express project had been stalled for months & we were at breaking point: no government would accept butterflies as stamps.

*

Then, although the glue worked, and they lifted the letters easily enough, the butterflies simply couldn’t or wouldn’t remember the correct addresses.

*

The Night Mail moths had been our last hope. But we were plagued by apparitions of luminous ice cream vans in the depths of the forest…

*

Doc Moreau would chase after the tinkling nacht musik, firing bazookas almost at random into the trees while I feverishly prepared fresh moths.

*

Then, after nine months, a woodlouse crawled under the door dragging a postal order for some much-loved nephew or other: we were in business!

*

Soon every gravy-splattered brat had to have an album of Doc Moreau’s First Day Issue Babbage Whites fluttering at the end of a silken string…

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