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Squirrel!

Another good evening of writing – knocked out 1887 words of On Wings of Steel in and around dinner, running to get cat food so the fuzzy beggars didn’t start gnawing on my leg in the middle of the night, and participating in an on-line chat.

Yeah, if I ever get something called “focus” down, I might actually be dangerous.

Nah.

Originally published at Richard C. White. Please leave any comments there.

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