Up to 9300 and 81 whole words now. WhoopdeDoo! I'll make a novelist yet, maybe.
I'm honestly wanting to get on with writing, but the Fates seem to conspire against me. The ramifications of Tony's death still cough and splutter on every day. Buying him a tombstone from a stone mason who can't spell english names. Dragging along to the court to hear the Will being questioned by a local judge; with me not allowed to speak at all. Oh it's all good fun.
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