Monday, January 22, 2007


Bolt upright at 5 am, writing since then. Body clock erratic. Story needs brutal pruning. Damn low word counts. Blue glow from a white screen - no other light. Unable to form sentences, eyes crossing, sleep is a strange machine.

Back to the witch in the forest, incantation, incubus -

Daylight hour approaches, Siberian temperatures forecast. Batteries low.


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