Word count towards the novel for the day: 367
It’s 2:20 am, and I know I’m probably a weirdo, because I sit here in the dim glow of firelight, surrounded by candles with incense burning on the counter. I’m a creature of habit, and I get into these weird little routines with everything I do. And writing at night has grown to involve at least one burning candle, incense, and red wine.
The back door is open to let in the night air, and in the distance I can hear someone playing music. It’s rare to hear anything this late at night, and it’s comforting to know someone else besides me is awake.