under another sun

Happy start to my day, with a note read in bed (sent a little after midnight) from Matthew at the Horla website saying he would use my post on horror for his site. Otherwise, a productive morning although constantly plagued by the cats, getting back in the saddle with the long story currently called Nothing compares to you . In the afternoon I went to the gym and felt pretty good afterwards. Finished listening to Rosemary's Baby on the walk home. It was very much of its time, but nicely done by Ira Levin. Liked how a mother's love trumps the fact her baby has hooves, horn buds and golden eyes at the end. Home and some more work before Lorraine arrived having had a trickier day. Maureen phoned to say she was cycling on a machine to keep her legs good. An early night.

Chased the new clients who, after a bit, gave me the green light on the job. While I was waiting I had started working on my novel pushing that on by a cheeky 500 words, and had yet another idea for a short story, which I just jotted down. The rest of the day a slog, gradually rewriting and humanising a 28 page brochure previously written by a robot. Had a quick walk before lunch and then a longer one in the park after five, when my brain and eyes had given up. Ate boredom bread and jam today. Spoke to Mum, after I had finished and all being well I will zoom up to see her next week. We are on the cusp of spring, but things are bleak beyond my own little bubble.  Brexit has been delayed, Mrs May has written to the EU to request an extension. The country and its government is quite rightly an international laughing stock, and there is no foreseeable outcome that is not dreadful. Even a so-called soft Brexit leaves us far poorer, financially of course, but also culturally and in t...

Slipped off the manacles at lunchtime and zoomed over to the Caffè Nero on Western Road to meet my glass buddies. They had reserved tables at the cafe. Nice to see them all, especially Ben, Chris, Yvonne and Adele. Lots of chat about glass, and Ben and I arranged to go for a cheeky jazz beer soon. Yvonne chiding me for not having got my glass work station ready yet. Jumped on the bus on the way home, and got back to thinking about multiple sclerosis and a touch of bovine diarrhoea. Finished listening to Horrorstör  tonight just before Lorraine came home. Although it was a horror story and had gore and a few bits, it mostly reminded me of a superior children's book. Chatted a bit with Sonia, as I mooched on. Eventually stopped work at tea time. Lorraine home quite early, and feeling shattered. I slipped out into the blustery night and got some takeaway food. Lorraine very pleased to be at home, and snuggled on the sofa. We watched a documentary called Three Identical Strangers , a...

Writing my new story for several hours today. Also listened to another excellent short story The Inner Room by Robert Aickman, and then went for a walk up and around the golf course on Hollingbury Hill. The Inner Room a chiller about an evil doll's house that becomes real. Gorse beginning to flower up there while listening.  Walking on the edge of the sloping meadow east of the golf course, and a long haired boy walking along in the other direction strumming his guitar who did not look at me. We were the only people visible, and it was one of those oddly dreamlike moments that crop up out of nowhere. Lorraine had a parent's evening tonight, and so was late. I started reading The Case Against Satan , an exorcism novel written in the sixties by Ray Russell, some ten years before The Exorcist .  However you only have to look at the news these days much worse horror stories. The imminent extinction of insects being just one of them.  Compared to that, horror is fun. ...