12 33 am. I'm just back from a rainy night's drive. Pure, unadulterated ecstasy, if ever there was one. I'm tired. I have very few hours of sleep available to me before I wake up to the day and I would give a lot of things to be able to get off this chair and slink away into the night but this has to be written.
In a few hours, I might get on a train. After a long, long time. New music's being pumped into my player and my book is ready.
Somewhere, somewhere, a window waits for me.