November 1st, 2011
Soul: 1006
Corn-Cob: 1007
Total Written: 3014
Words Remaining: 86,986/90,000
So, as you can see, I'm off to a fantastic start! I was going to start at midnight like I did last year but I actually went to bed immediately as NaNoWriMo began. This morning I was awake of my own accord at about 8am, and at quarter past the hour I got up and got about 1500 words in before going to university. On the bus I managed a wee bit, but trying to get much done on that bus is ridiculous - there's not much room to open a laptop and in the autumn mornings when the sun's low you can barely see the screen. A fantastic opportunity for writing came up today since I had a free period between my Philosophy lecture and my English Language tutorial. I wrote a couple hundred words in the bus station and by the time I got home I had about 2900 - just 100 left and I'd reach my goal.
That goal has been reached! So now I can rest easy and get on with some university work!
- Music:Love Song with Flute - Caravan
She heard it in her dreams, and it was most unlike anything she had ever heard Atlas play. Another world had opened up from whence the music came; she felt it prising a gulf between body and soul and pushing, widening until her whole being was rushing to pieces. The drumbeat of her heart throbbed sharp and loud.
Light slanted across her ceiling an instant later. Outside a blackbird trilled, another chirped in response. Conversation in song. And then the throbbing came again, this time at her bedroom door.
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“This is Kevin; he'll be our subject for today,” said the tutor, a moustached man in a turtleneck who hovered near his own easel. “Let's get painting!”
With that a new silence took over; the silence of concentration and a gentle sonic landscape of brushes scratching canvas. But the old, uneasy quiet was still there, and it was weird. Kevin pondered on it to distract from the draught threatening his nethers. He couldn't help but think sometimes that maybe people couldn't quite place him in the world – like there was something missing or odd that set him apart from some bizarre cosmic balance. But most of his thought went on to the fact that he was unemployed and his life was awful beyond belief.
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If you were sensible and went to Slough instead, to a particular lamp post on a particular street, then swung around the lamp post whilst singing hallelujah, you'd quickly disappear before the man in white coats could even entertain the thought of finding you.
And so it was that a young man in a suit, carrying a heap of posters, stood gasping on this same street in Slough, wishing that his bosses would consider their cock-up in giving him a lamp post in Slough, when in fact he lived in Edinburgh. Parking was nightmarish down here, and already he could feel the traffic wardens watching him, counting down the minutes until they could swarm his car like vultures.
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