January 18th, 2011


The metrics

2034 words. This blasted book is getting longer. It's already long enough. Sigh.

"People jostled at her from every side, workmen in leather aprons, women with baskets, filthy, ragged urchins. A reek of sour milk and rotting vegetation hung over everything. Aude choked behind her veil and put her head down, hurrying as best she could."

Skirt of the day: rust cotton. (Old and worn, sadly. But not, for once, blue.)

Right, time to feed cats and think about ironing.