I awake from nightmares to anger and horror and sadness. And that's just the way it is. I begin to suspect that's the way it always will be now, or, as they say, "the new normal." This tunnel has no bright light at the end. It may not even have an end.

It's mostly sunny here, and currently the temperature in Providence is 71˚F.

Yesterday, another four hours spent proofing the ms. for the Tor.com edition of Black Helicopters. That made roughly eight hours on the ms. over two days. When, honestly, I ought to have been writing something new for the digest. But this morning I sent the damn thing away to Jonathan Strahan in faraway Perth, Australia, and then he'll send it back to Manhattan. I realized, a couple of days back, the story spans a period of 186 years, between 1966 and 2152.

Yesterday, I read "Mandibles of the sea lion Proterozetes ulysses from the middle Pleistocene Port Orford Formation of Oregon" and "Rediscovery of the long-lost holotype of the lacertid lizard Pseudeumeces cadurcensis (Filhol, 1877)."

TTFN,
Aunt Beast




4:28 p.m.