Had food. Went to visit Orléans with the H and spent far too much time in a games shop looking at everything they had. Stared at my story until beads of blood formed on my forehead. Tried to ply my muse with food; it didn’t work. Proofed outcoming novella On a Red Station, Drifting (well, the first two thirds, anyway).
Off to watch some Thin Blue Line before bed, methinks.