We've just returned from a lovely late dinner of carrot-ginger soup and artichoke dip with home-baked crostinis. I don't know why it seems so vital to report on all our adventures in eating, except that it's the only thing we do, other than writing. It's the highlight of our days. We challenge any teachers anywhere to write for ten (plus) hours a day for ten straight days and then not get excited at the arrival of carrot-ginger soup.
I realized, after printing today's compositions, that I now have twenty completed chapters of my book: nine for Persephone and eleven for Eurydice. I have a total of thirty-six characters, some of whom intersect both women's stories, and others who only appear in momentary cameos. I love certain characters passionately. I love the way they talk and the choices they make. I can see them so clearly in my mind. I hate it when crummy things happen to them.
Today Orpheus convinced Eurydice to sell her '68 VW bug. It just didn't make sense to have it towed back to L.A. from Vegas, you know? But it killed me when they sold off that car. That car was a part of her, man. I do not have a lot of hope for those two, but they're giving it their best shot.
Alley cats are prowling and yowling and Venus is quite shameful up there next to the moon...
Say goodnight, Gracie...
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