The Second Letter

Hello,

I'm glad you decided to come and meet me – even if you were armed with that umbrella. But, as you now know that I'm not going to murder you in your sleep, I think we can give the umbrella a miss.

You might notice the scorch marks on the outside of this envelope, and that's because I'm currently watching the fall of Troy with your daughter. She's perfectly safe! Don't worry…

Well, there might have been a time when… That archer was perfectly sane, I assure you! It's not my fault he turned out to be a Zygon.

Zygons are big, red, icky sucky things, by the way.

They can assume the form of anything they want. So that wall next to you might be one.

Don't be alarmed! If it is a Zygon, then the likelihood is that you're already dead, so if you're reading this then that wall is mostly definitely not a Zygon. Unless you're also outside, and then there're no walls around you whatsoever and you're completely safe. Except for the trees. Watch the trees.

I haven't told Clara about our meeting. She'd want to meet you, and that'd most likely punch a hole in the fabric of the Universe.

Have you ever tried Chicken Maldova? It's a twenty-third century dish, chicken baked in a creamy kind of fish sauce covered in pasta. I'll try and bring some over next time I stop by.

Oh! Just one more thing before Clara and I need to go and outrun the surviving Trojans (something about a horse) – there will be a few times in your life where I meet little Clara, completely out of the blue. It's a past version of me, before I worked out who exactly Clara is, and I was looking for her.

Just… If you see me, you can't talk to me, okay? Clara needs to though – the less meddling I do with our time-streams the better. You know what, just forget everything I just wrote, it's overly confusing and wibby-wobby timey-wimey.

As long as this letter reaches you in the right order, then Clara will be a little baby. That's… A little disturbing. She's all yell-y and hormonal-y right now because I took her to see a play that included 'poor thirtieth century imitations of Duran Duran that ruined my childhood!'

The Doctor.