Storm over the Caribbean

The calls of gulls echoed across the bustling city of London. Vendors praised their wares at innumerable roadside stalls, and swarms of people bustled through the streets. It was a peaceful, perfectly average morning, until you decided to ride through the streets on a camel named Ambrose Junior. The crowd parts in your wake, eyes wide in disbelief.

You arrive at the towering facade of Empire House, your workplace. Outside, the imposing figure of Karim, your husband's bodyguard, stands waiting. He greets your cheerful wave with a wooden expression.

“I am fairly certain when the Sahib said that, due to being in the family way, you should not walk to work, he did not intend for you to come riding on the back of a camel.”

Your grin widens. “He did not? But what else could he have possibly been referring to?”

With a sigh, Karim tells you to get inside. Sliding down from Ambrose Junior, you hand the reins to Karim, ignoring his protests as you stride into the building.