Having gorged myself by listening to the H.P. Lovecraft Literary Podcast for what seemed like interminable aeons, I fell into a deep hypnotic stupor. I cannot claim to remember the dreams that plagued my feverish mind, I can only say that I had the vaguest memories of men with bulbous eyes that seemed to smell of fish. When I did finally awake, I did so with a bolt hysterical laughter. As the mania slowly passed over me, I became aware of a thing of singular peculiarity on my drawing board. There before me was a smallish scrap of paper measuring no more than four and a half inches wide by six and a half inches tall; from whence it came I hesitate to guess, but there wrought on page was a watercolor sketch, a portrait of a personage that seemed oddly dapper, yet hideous in features. Perhaps this might have driven any person who was in full control of their mental faculties insane, but luckily being an artist I had more than a touch of lunacy which had in some singular way braced my mind for the thing that lay before me.
I present for your consideration… The Mayor Of Innsmouth.
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