Further to my ‘The Hidden’ entry last week (as there’s reality in there between the gung-ho dramaticisms đŸ˜‰ ), I’m making this place a tad less… personally identifiable and purging away the pictures of myself. So they don’t know I’m here…
Heh, sounds like the beginning of a contemporary Lovecraft story, but to-
Gah!! Admirable enthusiasm, Mr. Cthulhu, but it’s still not your time. The stars are all unaligned and messy and the end of days is a long way off, so back to bed with you. Go on, off you go…
As I’ve said before, they’re like over-zealous puppies, those Great Old Ones. Anyway, I do actually have a semi-finished modern-day Lovecraft-style story hanging about somewhere. However, as you’ll have noticed from my not crowing from the rooftops and dancing merrily in text form, every single one of my writing deadlines has slunk ashamedly past me and are now long gone; on their way, I hope, to fresher pastures than these. The state of my WIPs is pitifully mirrored by the state of our house’s single plant, which is now nothing but three dried claws sticking out of a pot.
‘This is a hardy plant’, the description sticker boldly claimed…
I am now using it as a hat stand.
Digital Metaphor 