Edging the storm

At the time of writing Cyclone Alfred is 120 km ESE of Brisbane and the sun is shining. There are ominous clouds in the South and the air feels brittle. It all feels unreal at the moment and people are bored and restless. The rain has all but stopped here – I think tomorrow’s onslaught will be a shock because we’ve been preparing for this all week and… nothing. It all feels like a hoax.

Today is Day 66 of my 2025 epoch. It is not hard right now but I also think that I am going to need to tweak things soon. Everything is easier and thus conversely progression is harder. Yesterday at 9 weeks in was the first person to notice. I do not notice many changes other than the strength and the ease at certain tasks. And the sleep. It is startling to find myself easily laughing at things and bubbling with optimism. I forget that that was once a default setting. It’s all probably worth it for that alone.

The little dark wisps hang around the periphery. The ones that snake over my shoulder and whisper to me how much better it would be and how much faster if only I controlled everything a bit more rigorously. If I withdrew from anything that might pull me off track or expose me to the chance of slipping back. Of how seductive it feels to quash any sensation other than that of conquest. To slake thirst with denial instead of satisfaction. I remember how good that used to feel if one ignored the fragility and the constant fear of shattering.

So when it gets noisy I listen to the fae books; that started off as irony and scorn and then dug their way under my skin. And I walk – straight into the storm.