I don’t know if my blog posts have accurately echoed my dismay, but lately I’ve been feeling a little bit like I want to run around outside screaming, or maybe take a trip to London to stand in that famous park and rant all day long. In some ways, I can understand the people who walk around putting up signs that warn about the upcoming end of the world. In short, I’ve been climbing walls and freaking out. And as long as I don’t do any of those weird things, I guess that’s okay...because Agatha Christie went a little crazy once, too. Well, maybe.
Her Greatest Mystery
For 11 days, the famous Queen of mystery novels went missing. Vanished. The year was 1926, the whole event was totally bizarre, and people have been trying to unravel this lingering mystery in all the decades since.
Her Greatest Mystery
For 11 days, the famous Queen of mystery novels went missing. Vanished. The year was 1926, the whole event was totally bizarre, and people have been trying to unravel this lingering mystery in all the decades since.