Maeve is at the Orchard Street market the other side of the walls and Brendan, as Jeremy, is thinking. Remembering. Wondering. I don't yet know if he will ever have a full answer to his questions, but at least they need to be posed. And this quiet time feels right and proper for that to happen.
I'm at 85,500 words, now, and think this may wind up about 125,000 total. And what's happening now is beginning to make me wonder about the ending I've already written. If it's where the story will still wind up. I still think everything leads to it, but you never know.
I'm currently being inundated by pleas for money by Democrats, 90% of whom I've never even heard of. They're in other states running for the Senate or the House as well as councilman and mayor and state legislature person and on and on. And of course, every one of them is claiming if i don't give them $3-25, we will lose control of Congress in November. Make it a weekly donation, to be safe.
I made the mistake of giving to 2 Democrats I supported several years ago, and this is what happens. Well, I'm being an asshole and telling them any donations I make are going to help Ukraine fight Russia's terrorism. The Biden administration won't let Ukraine use US weaponry against Russia's bomber bases, deep inside the country. They're the ones launching cruise missiles at Ukraine's cities, bombing houses, markets, hospitals, schools and people out in the open...and all Ukraine can do is throw drones at them.
I don't have a lot to give, but it's going to where it's needed, not to people who cannot beat the shit out of a convicted felon and his vile party without whining about needing more support.
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