Now I have to be patient. The first draft of the new story
is finished and edited, but now it needs to go cold for at least a week. I’ve
decided it can be included in the canon of short stories, so it has a catalogue
number. And that means it must be afforded a modicum of respect. I must resist
the urge to look at it for at least a week, because it’s surprising how wrong
some things can read once the filter of familiarity has been removed. I’ll
probably post it at the other blog once I’ve done the final edit.
* * *
And while I’m in a vaguely creative vein, I must mention the
strange appearance of some of the clouds this evening. There was nothing
vaporous about them at all; they looked like solid swathes of tangerine, donkey brown,
and charcoal grey oil paint applied to a canvas with a palette knife. I don’t
remember seeing any clouds quite like them before. Maybe I’m just noticing
things more keenly these days.
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