An empty coffee mug. A can of beer. A notepad of squared paper ciphered over with mathematical formulae. Hannah lies reclined on the sofa, snuggled in Ben’s arms, head on his lap. Ben sits, awake, stroking his fingers through Hannah’s hair and thinking – thinking his climatic theorising.

Current wordcount: 55,719
Current pagecount: 204

My ideas are still bursting forwards, but I must stay my pen now, and take some rest or else I will never awake in the new dawn of tomorrow. Still, I leave chapter four at the cusp of some fast-cutting scene changes, and a little over one sixth complete.

A good day.