Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Then I saw it. On the top of a garage roof to my right, there appeared to be the figure of a small dark man. Not just any small man, more than that. I double-took as I approached and yes, it was the Grim Reaper himself. He was standing with his black cloak on, his scythe in his hand with the staff resting on the ground where he stood. He was watching me as I made my along the misty Leith street. I thought my time was nigh.
Fear gripped me. I walked steadily and quietly, tried to control my breathing, but couldn't hide for the small nervous bursts of condensation leaving my mouth. I drew level with the Reaper, and then saw what was happening. I was looking at a Sky satellite dish. The angle I had been approaching made it appear like Death's servant standing on the roof.
But as my heart settled down to a gentle canter, I came to the conclusion that regardless of the dish's form in my over-fertile imagination, I should take care with everything I do today. Just in case.
Onto less heart stopping matters. I wrote a diabolically low amount of words today and was unable to catch up due to distractions such as being ill-prepared in the morning for a quick getting ready routine, a busy lunch time, and then snooker in the evening. What I did write - and am about to write in that particular chapter - will need verification and research after the manuscript is down on paper. I have a lot of questions to ask both the Metropolitan and Lothian and Borders Police Forces come the start of next year.
NaNo words today: 20