I was going to write and post some short fiction this evening, but I can’t get it come together, which will at least teach me that ideas had under the influence of Kate Bush lyrics are probably less clever than they first appear. And I seem to have accidentally spent all evening writing e-mails and posting to message boards.
I have been trying to explain the more transcendental aspects of The Invisibles to some of my friends, who are probably about to give up on me either as hopelessly mad or a complete poseur. I think, on balance, I’d rather be the former. So long as I could be the latter in my spare time.