After the cold stress of too much caffeine and too many tight dead lines I found myself neglecting said blog. I, your humble narrator have been caught up in events beyond my control and chthonic in their intensity.
Well, If I had actually been caught up in some eldritch horror I might have got more writing done, as all of Lovecraft’s protagonists seems to have a strange desire to keep narrating even as they are being devoured.
All of this is however of little consequence. I am actually undertaking the ritual of the house move. It’s a dark and unearthly ritual that necessitates much moving of furniture into occult configurations and the shining of wavering torch light into the dark hidden spaces under the sink. Long forgotten cleaning materials, silent in the dark, await the day when they shall purge the sink of germs. A dark and mysterious ichor stains the bath.
My new dwelling is a duplex apartment (shared with flat mates), I don’t formally move in until the 3rd of Aug, so I have plenty of time to cleanse my current house.