Monday, May 28th, 1934.
My name is Henry Hollis and my life took a turn recently that I didn’t see coming. The easy way to say it is that I got a job offer, but that doesn’t do justice to the situation. Maybe they should have told me the job would get me tangled up with mobsters and space aliens. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. Times being what they are, I took the job, and every day since has been just this side of madness.
I’ve met powerful men. I’ve been on the receiving end of death threats and bribe offers, and just yesterday, a .38 caliber slug to the leg. I’ve conversed with a 400-year-old child, beaten a perfectly decent man into unconsciousness at his request and been mistaken for a vengeful angel from beyond the veil. It’s been quite a carnival ride, and I don’t expect things to slow down any time soon.
After some reflection on the situation, I’ve decided to keep a journal of my experiences on this runaway train I’m riding. Maybe this will all be nothing but a waste of good paper, but I’m following what you might call an educated hunch. I hope you’ll forgive the coffee stains.