The Plot

Up early and working for three or four hours on my new horror story first thing. It is going quite well. I enjoy my writing most when I discover as I write what the story is about, and how to tweak the plot. This work done, I seemed to have expended all my enthusiasm and focus for the day. Pottered about replying to my accountant, and listing things that I should be doing if only I had enthusiasm. My back is stiff and painful.

Nearing the end of The Plot Against America. The character's wearying raging against the politics of their time, and the slide away from truth and towards fascism feels all too familiar now.

Chatted to Anton. He is bored, being made to work very hard, and can't see the end of the plague.  

Threatening rain here in Brighton much of the day without delivering much. It was warm, and my lightning tracker went off a few times, alerting me of the exciting fact lightning was occurring within 50 miles. I walked up to the hill fort again, but decided not to tarry, as there was the occasional big raindrop and I was on the top of a very large hill. I did not want to tempt Zeus to zap me.

Wandered back through the streets, and into Preston Park to reach my 10k paces. When Lorraine came home we went for a circuit of Blaker's Park too. 

Lorraine was drained from work, I cooked and she grew happier watching The Great British Sewing Bee.  

Below flowers near the cycle path.