Monday, 19 January 2015

It's almost midnight. The house sleeps. The cats, the dog, the man, the street, the wind, the machines, everything sleeps. everything is gently breathing. I've written enough for the day; there is going to be another day in a few minutes. My stories have been full of Frost Giants and Odin's sons and lustful schemes of surprisingly fleshy gods. Goodnight Farbauti; you will die some other day. Goodnight Monday. Goodnight, the keyboard and my fingertips. Always a pleasure.

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