Novel Deathmarch, Day IV

Number of words Thursday: 5000

Favourite sentence: “She wasn’t my girlfriend,” Gus said, hanging on to the doorframe.

Pretty things: Stella’s hair, jasmine, church windows

Horrible things: a hot plate mounded with melted plastic and scorched food

Distance from finish line: ~10,000 words?

Cups of coffee: 3

End-of-day rewards: dinner at Czehoski, but I was too keyed up to eat much

Last night’s dream: a day which began with a full-colour premonition that I was going to lose my eye to shrapnel from a bomb blast. The day included multiple bomb scares, each one causing me to wonder if my premonition was about to come true. It ended with a walk past a swimming pool which contained an enormous unexploded shell, which was clearly about to explode and obviously, finally, take out my eye. Fortunately, this finally gave me enough of a jolt to wake me up.

Grateful feelings: your husband listens while you discuss, at great length, the scenes you’ve written that day; your writer friend texts you a reminder to turn off your internet connection and get cracking.

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