No flame can be seen from our rooftop. However, neither can any stars be seen. The air is still thick with smoke.

Cable is back up. The champagne is gone. The brie, however, lives on. And I am bone-deep tired, mostly from trying not to be scared shitless in front of the kids.

I did get a start on the love scene for Lily, which is good as it's a hard one to write - it's got to be on the funny side, you see (she said apologetically). But the start is fine and will be there in the relative calm of tomorrow.

Oh - one more absurdity. I found myself wearing my Apacer, that handy-dandy bit of technology that carries 256mb in something smaller than a cigar. It comes with a cord, similar to a badge holder. I was concerned enough to update it and wear it when I went out this afternoon.

Silly, I know. But I've got every novel I've ever written on that jumble of chip and plastic. It seemed wearing it was intelligent at the time. And I really must find a name for that handy bit of technology. Any ideas, anyone? I'm open to suggestion.