There are tiny prisms on my laptop screen. An imperceptible drizzle.

A flock of two dozen or more Canada Geese has just flown over my head, seeking their nesting place for the night. A tiny smudge of pink thumbs the grey horizon.

Tough day. Words were spaghetti to be untangled. No progress or logic, so it felt. No sense or impetus. What does this damnable chapter-section want to be?

Walked away from it. Walked back. A dozen times. Finally, went to stick dinner in the stove: small rack of lamb, new potatoes with garlic and rosemary, stuffing, broccoli and carrots. A small answer was waiting for me when I got back to my chair. Good enough.

Tough stuff, tomorrow. Fun, but tough…the first hip-deep immersion in what the book will eventually become. B-Boy has Facebooked his first reactions to the post-save revision. “Smart (I think he used that word…internet is too bad to go check), seamless and sinister” he says. I’ll take that.

This tired brain could use a day off. Not allowing it…too much to do in too little time for the writer in the pasture.

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