Horrific

Theresa May presented her deal with the EU today to mass Tory resignations. Essentially Brexit is a national suicide attempt, and May is trying to make that suicide slightly less painful. Many rabid Brexiteers want it to be more deeply damaging. Meanwhile the populace, bitterly divided by the lies they were told,  doesn't know what the hell is happening or who to trust. The closer we get to Brexit the madness of the 'taking back control' lie further reveals itself.

And breathe.

For me personally a rather good day. I did some writing. I sent stuff off to Michel and Pat and Perky. I went to the gym. I returned and did some more work, and then I got a note accepting one of my short stories to appear on a Horror story site called Horla. This was a bit of a boost. The story is about an astrologer and is called, The Dark Fish.  I wrote it in 1986, which I went through three rounds of revisions with the editor of a magazine called Panurge, before he finally rejected it. I tried it several times elsewhere with no luck, and then filed it. Reading short stories lately, I dug out some of my own, and re-read The Dark Fish again, and saw easily how it could be fixed and did a rewrite last week. A bit of progress in a year of roadblocks.

Lorraine home late, and tired. Fed and tended to her before she went to bed really early.