Thank you to all our customers who have been sending reports from around the world (and underworld) via Post Mortem Postal Service about their lockdown experiences. 

NOTE: Post Mortem is operating with only slightly reduced services as staff in normal circumstances prefer staying more than 6' apart anyway.

"I'm writing to you tonight from under a bed in Biggleswade, Bedfordshire.

It’s been a weird several weeks. All the humans are staying home, which for an under-the-bed monster like me, seems like an ideal time to get some good, old-fashioned scaring in. 

But when I say the humans are staying home, I mean it. They’re at home ALL THE TIME. I’ve found myself staying under the bed for longer than I would normally, as I can no longer sneak out during daylight hours. 

I’m doing more exercise that I would normally do - my claws make an excellent grip on the bed slats for pull-ups, and I can balance on my tail for longer than I’ve ever been able to. I’m thinking of putting out an exercise video for other ‘Under the Beds’.

I’ve had to be careful not to snack too much on the balls of fluff and ‘lost socks’. You know what they say - too many socks in the mouth, more likely to get monster gout. So I’m rationing these.

It’s also been a weird few weeks because the humans are being extra nice. I do enjoy the usual drama - makes for good stories to tell at get-togethers. But in the house I’m in at the moment, the humans all seem to be… smiling? And making things together. Homely smells have been wafting up from the kitchen. I can’t see the appeal myself, I much prefer munching mould but the little humans in the house seem to go crazy for whatever the big humans are concocting in there. They should try a Jar of Thickest Human Snot once in a while, it would blow their minds. 

Another strange thing - once a week, all the humans in the house and up and down the street stand outside and bang their hands together and bang and pots and cheer. The other day, I found myself standing at the window smacking my paws together. Luckily it was dark, otherwise it could have been a disaster.

Anyway. I can hear footsteps - the tiny human who lives in this room is on her way to bed. But in all honesty, I don’t feel like scaring at the moment. Something is not right with me. I might even see if she wants to be friends - she can tell me all about one of those book things she’s always got her head buried in that seems so entertaining to her. I wonder if other monsters are experiencing these odd kinds of feelings? Best do some pull-ups and tail-balancing first and think this through.

Logging out, from Bedfordshire."