2.13 in the morning, to "Rosemary" from Scott Walker's "Scott 3", and I finish the first draft of Luna 16.

It's mostly there, though I'm sure I'm going to rip it to pieces and re-arrange for my purposes at a later date. And for something that involves people dying slow, horrible deaths, I'm wandering close to dirty fucking hippie with the themes.

But fuck it. It's 12 pages of good stuff. Second draft will be 12 pages of better stuff.

Onwards. Upwards. Bedwards.