Yesterday I wrote a single sentence--wow--and kept revisiting it and staring at it throughout the day whenever I wanted a break. But it never grew into more than itself.

Spike lay asleep on the bed, ivory limbs a scrawl of Kanji against the dark-blue sheets.

It was going to be from Riley's POV.

Last night I missed Alias. I went to bed at quarter to eight. I slept over eleven hours. My body knows what it wants, I guess. It doesn't particularly want the yogurt I'm currently spooning into it, but tough luck. If it's good, I may give it a piece of chocolate later.