At my desk, failing...

[sheldonbartleby]

Sat down and just wrote out of desperation, and wrote this

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[dammitall]

I could hear the branches scrabbling at the windows, and this made me think of the acacia(?) grove that turned out to be all one plant. We're so creeped out at the thought of their sentience: I wonder how they feel about us?

Here you are, restless and writing. 'Tis good, though I feel I've neglected you. No thoughts in my head to email, long weekend ahead. No work I have to jump on here, so I spend my day editing...

[dammitall]

And that's Prometheus, on the rocks.