So the 21st has come, and I'm a bit behind, but nothing I couldn't make up (especially if I was writing there instead of here), but I felt I needed to drop a note to my dusty blog. Just a few more days to go, and 50,000 words and a finish line will be my rest.
Just for fun, here's a snippet:
In every city built by men stand unfinished constructions, broken skeletons of wood and steel standing behind warnings: do not stray too close! But in the small hours beyond midnight, when the vagabonds rule the streets with their creeping shadows, sometimes one will ignore the warnings, venturing beyond the barricades.Ahem. Back to work.
Treading on unsettled stones and naked beams of wood, he finds that it is all a lie--that mad minds have framed the wood and stone with no intention of raising any sane structure at that site. No, because in the heart of the work, where in other places one might find a furnace, or the stone floor of a kitchen-to-be, one instead finds a rough-hewn wooden plank covering a yawning darkness leading down.
When the plank is drawn aside, in the small hours beyond midnight, the path leads into the depths, into darkness not born of the absence of light only, but the absence of much more besides. Such paths never lead below the city, mind you, but below everything, into places for crawling and striving, places beneath creation itself, leading elsewhere.