Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to nocturnal transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that brings you dark tales both old and new, performed by voice artist, Kristen Holland.

It's lovely to be back with you. I do so enjoy our little chats. On the topic of chatting,

we have had such wonderful feedback via our email and YouTube channel comments of late.

I feel compelled to, yet again, thank you, our beloved Achaelites, for your support and encouragement.

Our humble narrator tells me that your kind words

almost make the relentless burden of continually feeding the beast, as it were,

bearable.

This episode, we will attempt to reward your goodwill

with a nice, long journey into the dark realms.

I do admit that we have of late been tending towards brevity in our story choices.

Not so on this occasion, gentle listener. Quite the opposite.

Prepare for your cup to runneth over with cold, bitter brine, as nocturnal transmissions proudly presents, William Hope Hodgson's, The Sea Horses.

And he's under the sea, buys where the wild horses go.

Hasses with tails as big as old whales all jiggin around in a row.

And when you says wo, them divils dars go.

How was it you catched my one, grandfather?

Asked Nebby, as he had asked the same question any time during the past week, whenever his burly grey-gernseyed grandfather

crooned out the old ballad of the seahorses,

which, however, he never carried past the portion given above.

Like as he was a bit weak, nebibby, and I gave him a smart clip with the axe,

for he could bolt off, explained his grandfather, lying with inimitable gravity

and relish. Neby dismounted from his curious-looking go-horse by the simple means of dragging it

...