The Caitiff comes out two weeks today! Time for a few final, panicked read-through’s just to check, for the hundredth time, that I haven’t missed anything!
The days limped on with sombre precision. Like a pallbearer’s, the steps I made felt measured, if slightly out of sync with those around me, and I seemed to be carrying the heaviest load, as though no one else were willing to bear the weight of the corpse on our shoulders. There was a certain insanity in the air, a madness which seemed to creep through the slanted blinds of my apartment. I wanted to step into the street, tear my clothes from my body, and scream and scream until my throat collapsed upon itself with the effort. The madness I laboured beneath was a will-sapping, consciousness raping illness. Of course, if I was to act in such a manner, to caper in the street naked and screaming, I was certain that any passer-by would simply step past me; perhaps regaling their family later that evening with the delightful little anecdote about the mad man on the pavement.