From: Mulholland, Peter

Sent: Wednesday, 10 August 2016 10:11

To: Royle, Nicholas
Cc: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Manchester Fiction Prize 2016
Hey Nicholas,
Thats great news! In reply to your question, I wrote it but I didnt technically create it I guess. Its an old letter I found in a box at a car boot sale. I did type it out
so yeah, I think I wrote it?
Happy to provide a scanned copy of the original if you want?
Regards,
Pete

From: Royle, Nicholas

Sent: Wednesday, 10 August 2016 08:14
To: Mulholland, Peter
Subject: Manchester Fiction Prize 2016
Good morning Peter,
On behalf of the MMU, Im pleased to advise you that your piece is being considered
for the short list in the contest. Before proceeding further, we have concerns about
whether this piece conforms to the following rule:
All work submitted for consideration can be on any subject, and written in any style
or form, but must be the entrant's own original writing, and should not have
appeared in print or appear on a website
Please advise ASAP so we can officially proceed with the short list.
Sincerely,
Nicholas

From: Mulholland, Peter

Sent: Wednesday, 05 August 2016 15:19
To: [email protected]
Subject: Manchester Fiction Prize 2016
To whom it may concern, please find my entry below:

Dearest Lady Catherine,

It has been too long since last we met, so I graciously accept your invitation. It pleases
me to hear from you and to learn that you miss my tales. I miss telling them to you.
As you have been a dear and loyal friend to me, I must confess something to you
before our next visit. Hard as they may be to believe, the tales I told you - were not
entirely fictitious.
Truth be told, the timing of your letter couldnt have come at a more opportune time. I
am in need of your assistance. Do you recall the dreams I spoke of last time? If you
believe what the papers have been printing to be true then you already know what I
must ask of you. Catherine, you are one of the most skilled dream interpreters Ive
had the pleasure of knowing. I know it is a lot to ask of you, in light of the falling out
we had at the chteau last year. If you recall, you insinuated that I was not being
honest with you. Regrettably, I must admit that you were correct in that assumption.
So, please permit me to reintroduce myself to you. My real name is Graf Tzarogy and
I was born eight hundred and seventeen years ago, in the year 1199.
I never knew my mother; she died giving birth to me. My father was a tailor, who
worked long hours making clothes for the locals of the small coastal hamlet of
Sanremo. He was all I had back then and to this day, I still miss him dearly.
I acquired many of my fathers skills and attributes, but the greatest of all was his
patience. It has served me well over the years. Patience is sometimes confused as
cowardice; in fact there is a fine line between the two.
I know it will seem improbable to you, dear Lady, but I have nothing to gain by lying
to you. What I have learned over my lifetime is that improbability is often defeated by
imagination. For most of my life, people would never have believed we could speed
across land in a giant metal worm and yet here I am, inside the cabin of a train writing
this letter to you. Catherine, you have a liberal mind and I pray that you take this leap
of faith with me. Please trust me.
Do you want to know the secret behind the longevity of my life? Of course you do.
It happened one summer night in the year 1245. Knowing what I do now, I believe I
had cancer at the time and would have died before I saw my fiftieth birthday. My
home was a humble abode; log walls with a straw thatch roof, inherited from my
father many years earlier. I never married and could not sire children, so I lived alone.
Back then, my body tired easily, again likely due to the cancer. I knew I was dying
and had made peace with it. I just wanted my final years to be as comfortable as
possible.
Around midnight I awoke for a light meal of sliced apple on sourdough bread. I
remember stepping outside into the warm summer air and gazing down into the valley
behind my home. A series of bright lights immediately caught my attention. This was
hundreds of years before the invention of batteries and light bulbs fire was the only
source of light back then. I was filled with curiosity, so I donned my robe and slippers

and stumbled in the dark down a long goat trail, which brought me close to the source
of the light.
Despite this occurring hundreds of years ago, I remember it with great clarity. I will
summarise what took place.
There were three men; all dressed in silver suits, wearing large glass helmets. They
were loading small plastic containers into a large, round space craft you might
identify them as UFOs today. In India they call them Vimana, which is the name I
have since come to think of them as. I stood motionless behind a bush and watched
them for several minutes. I dont know how they knew I was there but they did.
Once the containers were loaded, one of them turned and walked directly towards me.
I wanted to run away but I was frozen in fear. Through his glass helmet I could see he
was a clean shaven man, possibly in his mid fifties and most certainly a human. He
reached out and offered me his hand. I took it and followed him down towards the
craft. I could see him talking to someone, but the helmet trapped his voice. Seconds
later, another man exited the vessel carrying a small package. He pressed it into my
hands before hastily ushering me away from them.
From behind a thicket, I watched in awe as the door slid shut. Before it closed, the
first man waved to me. I waved back and the Vimana silently ascended into the air. I
remember seeing a ring of lights above me and then in the space of a heartbeat, they
disappeared.
As you can imagine, I was stunned and didnt move for several minutes. Fatigue
overcame me, so I slowly made my way back up the hill to my home. Though my
mind was racing with questions, I was physically exhausted and fell into a deep sleep
as soon as I lay down.
When I awoke, I thought the entire event was a dream. That is, until I found the
package the man gave me in the pocket of my robe. It was of a similar shape and size
to a cake of soap. I removed the soft, tissue wrapping and found a dozen green crusts
inside. They were rectangular in shape and felt like dry seaweed. I raised them to my
nose. They were completely odourless, with a texture similar to kale. Despite being
utterly unappetizing in both appearance and scent I bit into one of them. To my
surprise, it had tremendous flavour and dissolved on my tongue like cotton candy. I
was ravenous and devoured them one after the other, enjoying every morsel. My
tongue ran around my teeth, savouring the taste for as long as I could.
Afterwards, I remember studying the wrapping. At the time it was unlike anything Id
ever seen before. It was lighter than a feather, yet remarkably durable like a cross
between tissue paper and silk. Growing up with a tailor for a father, I had a greater
appreciation for fabrics than most yet Id never seen anything of its like before. Fine
print was inscribed on the paper, which I couldnt make out in the dimly lit room I sat
in. Stupidly, I stepped outside to get a better look at it and the wind whipped it out of
my hand. I chased it as best I could before it landed in a puddle. Strangely, it
dissolved the second it touched the water. How I wish I still had that wrapping! I was
upset at the time but there was nothing I could do, so I returned inside.

Within hours of eating the strange food, my body began to react. I felt remarkably
strong, the strongest Id felt in years. Whatever Id eaten completely healed me of all
my ailments. The cancer disappeared, my thinning hair grew back - even the tooth
ache I had was gone. I felt like a new man. I didnt know it at the time but from that
day on, I also stopped aging.
Hard to believe, I know. You arent the first to hear my story, I have shared it with
many others and each time Ive received the same sceptical looks. I have been called
an eccentric, a lunatic and crazy on more occasions than I care to recall.
I no longer get sick or age but I still feel pain and the scars on my body are testament
that I am capable of being injured and worse. There is, after all, a difference between
immortality and invulnerability.
I stayed a few more years in Sanremo but the scrutiny of its tight knit community
eventually forced me to leave. Those that knew me were aware of my illness and
knew I didnt have much longer to live. Some of my so called friends were hoping to
inherit my belongings when I passed. When my health returned, they asked a great
many questions that I was unable to answer. Keep in mind that people of that era
believed in witchcraft and the supernatural, so describing my strange meeting with the
men dressed in silver would likely have had dire consequences. I packed my meagre
belongings and left.
I travelled the world, never staying too long in any one place. Over the years I
acquired many skills. My mind was thirsty for knowledge, so I quenched that thirst by
absorbing books. I learned how to play every instrument, how to sing in every
language, how to build and how to destroy. I studied the arts, arithmetic, geometry
and astronomy. Ive seen miracles, experienced the supernatural and bore witness to
the rise and fall of empires.
From all the occupations Ive held, the one I enjoyed most was alchemy. I spent many
years trying to recreate the biscuits that made me this way. Sadly, Ive not been able to
recreate the mysterious food. For all I know, the ingredients may not be of this planet.
Through my research I met many fascinating individuals. Throughout the ages, I have
been a student to pioneers, savants and the divine. I have wined with Kings and
broken bread with Prophets. And yes, I have loved many.
Sounds marvellous, doesnt it? But it wasnt always so. In the fourteenth and fifteenth
century, I was succumbed with greed. I realized I could accumulate a Kings fortune
in jewels and gold.
During this dark period, I masqueraded as a jewel expert. I claimed an ability to
remove flaws from diamonds. In actual fact, Id discovered a way to synthesize
artificial diamonds. I kept the real diamond and returned a fake match. My actions
drew the attention of a Grand Vizier in Turkey who summoned me before his Sultan.
My ruse was up and I was locked in a prison cell for sixty three years! Fortunately, the
daughter of a guard recognised me when she herself was an old woman. Naturally, she
was astounded that I had not aged. Stories of my immortality spread throughout
Europe. The stories intrigued the new Sultan, who insisted I dine with his family in

the palace. I regaled them with stories of my past, played every instrument like a
virtuoso and sang them songs long since thought extinct. My efforts earned me a
pardon. During the hard years I spent in that cell I promised myself that should I ever
be free again, I would do things differently.
Once free, I fled to England for a time and later joined pioneer families in settling the
Americas. My exploits created a mythological being that fascinated the public. But
alas, I grew tired of moving from place to place, so in 1784 I staged my own death. It
was an elaborate affair, conducted with the assistance my trusted friend, Prince
Charles of Hesse-Kassel in Schleswig. During the years that followed, I kept a low
profile moving often between the various homes Ive purchased around the world.
Ive rarely stay more than five years in any one location until now that is.
Since eating the strange biscuits all those years ago, Ive had premonitions visions
of future events that have come to pass. Few would believe it now, but it was my
influence that saw Columbus discover the New World. I dreamt about the first steam
boat and steam train, one hundred years before they were invented. Similarly, I have
seen airplanes capable of carrying hundreds of passengers. I knew Archduke
Ferdinand would be assassinated.
There are things I have seen in my dreams which have not yet come to pass.
Catherine, I know not how you came to decipher my dreams the last time we met but I
believe we were destined to meet. You are ahead of your time a true pioneer for
women the world over. There are deeper meanings behind my visions, which I am
certain you could assist me with. Lately, Ive had recurring dreams that I believe are
more visions of the future. I see a strong arm that will put mankind on the moon. The
world will be united by an electric spider web. A sea shell will cure a great pain.
There are more, much more. Lady, I have also witnessed the fall of your Fuhrer. Just
as you once told me, he will bring Germany to its knees.
I have been patient perhaps too patient. I wait in hope that they will return. I no
longer know whether I should prevent human suffering or continue to distance myself
from it. I dare not expose myself to the wrong people doing so has caused me great
pain in the past.
I pray that you accept the truth of my words. There is much I need to discuss with you
in person. I hope this letter finds you in high spirits I will see you soon.
Sincerely and always your friend,
Graf Tzarogy