The Fourth Occurrence

As I write this, I am making hurried preparations to travel to my wife’s cousins’ house in Leatherhead, where we should be secure from the recent happenings.  The second cylinder has fallen!  A second after midnight, the throng gathered on the Chertsey Road saw a “shooting star” falling into the wood.  It caused a still brightness like none had ever seen.  Some call it beautiful, some majestic, and some terrifying.  On another note, (for I’m sure many of you would wish to hear about the Martians on Earth), the Martians had been surrounded by military last night.  When I caught wind of this, I departed my home for the woods, where I found several soldiers discussing among themselves what should happen.  I deliberated with them for a time, but soon excused myself to go down to the train station to gather as many different newspapers in hopes of filling in the gaps of the story.  They shared nothing I didn’t know, only some muddled accounts of the deaths of Henderson, Stent, and Ogilvy.  Although that afternoon passed interminably slowly, I will not bore you with meaningless details, and instead resume my account at six o’clock, when my wife and I were taking tea.  I was rambling on – ah, how often I do that! – when I heard a stifled discharge.  I raced onto the lawn, and gazed at the tips of the trees surrounding the Oriental College as they ignited.  Soon after, the entire College was taken to the ground.  As my wife and I stood, shocked, one of our chimneys burst apart and crumbled.  Racing into action, I thrust her into the road, and ran back inside to fetch the servant.  As I told her that we couldn’t continue residing here, another burst of gunfire opened as if to prove my point.  When she inquired as to where we would go, I had no answer until I probed my mind.  Thus, we are going to her cousins’ house, by way of a horse-and-dog cart belonging to the landlord of the Spotted Dog.  I must hurry!  Your ever-faithful reporter, William Russell.