“feel like I’m in jail with you and Mr Hyde”

Words Scrubbed: 71,388

New things: Gus smells of smoke, Maksim knows an Ethiopian restaurant, Rafe can cook salmon steaks; ooh, and there’s a great new thing for Lissa that I don’t want to talk about

Old things I still like: Greenland mummies, a plum, climbing

Old things I miss, aka murdered darlings: sunlight on the aerodrome, Nick leaning his head on Maksim’s shoulder

Fetishes: good God, none at all, unless you count the hoodie I’ve now been wearing for three days

Soundtrack: Celtic folk, for some reason

Sustenance: coffee, popcorn, olive bread with mayo and tomatoes

Reason for stopping: that’s a draft! It is still on the short side, which I am disappointed about, but I think it is all pretty much unfucked.

Next steps: another grand read-through, and a double-check of the calendar to make sure I haven’t introduced new fuckery with all the reordering of scenes. More tinkering will ensue. Thanks to my industry, though, I now have two extra days in my schedule with which to tinker.

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