Yesterday, I wrote 1,031 words on "One Tree Hill (The World As Cataclysm)." It's shaping up to be a longer than usual story for the digest, possibly, and one written with a more precise than usual language. The added degree of precision, that of the narrator's (or interauthor's) voice, is making it slower to write. But I like where it's going.
In Providence, it's sunny again. The forecast high is only 78˚F. Which I know sounds like heaven to everyone stuck in those parts of the country (and world) getting the worst of what summer and climate change has to offer. But I need genuine summer. Which means three consecutive months of days in the low to mid nineties. This is something I will never get in New England. I know that now. Anyway, I will go to the sea at least once next week. Meanwhile, I write while Spooky moves furniture about and makes trips to the storage unit (these are good things).