1212 words at the Book Cellar, the best independent bookstore in Chicago (in my opinion, not least because they have hosted several quite successful student readings for my RU crew). They have a cafe that does pretty brisk business. Their cupcakes are deadly. Note to self: don’t buy one of those again, please.

I might not be done writing for the day, though. Will have to see when I get home, which I hope is soon. It’s four o’clock and all those people with sources of income are starting to look at their clocks and get ideas about being on the streets, my unemployed-can-drive-when-I-want streets.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s Chicago. You can’t drive on these streets easily at any time of the day. But it’s about to get worse, to ta! for now.