"And praised be Allah Who gave me two/Separate sides to my head!"

Apparently, the best thing about being a cat - right this minute, you understand - is that he does indeed have two separate sides to his head: so that once the right side has been thoroughly scritched, behind his ears and under his jaw, then the head may be turned around and the left side attended to; and so on, rinse and repeat. [We may be a little disgruntled that the hand in question keeps being taken away to commit typing, but we are used to that, alas; and in the meantime there can be washing, and apparently this morning there can be rolling around on the desk and being cute, for we are in an absurdly good mood today...]

In a less feline application of the same stricture, I had meant to go into town and read through the first half of vol three today, in a somewhat desperate attempt to persuade myself that it is in fact possible to write the second half, and so arrive at a conclusion to both the book and the series. But I did have to go and collect my veggies, which takes me in entirely the wrong direction, away from the Lit & Phil; and while I was headed in that direction I might as well go to the supermarket, which is a deal further; and I was tired to start with, as I have been tired all week for no observable reason; and, and, and. And I just don't wanna go out again.

And I do have two separate sides to my head; and one implication of all the above is that I shall need something new to write shortly, as soon as I do find an end to vol three; and it would be no bad thing to have a chapter or two of something or other down on paper soonest, something my agents could ponder while I plunge forward to complete existing contracts.

So. Today is apparently not a reading day, today is a writing day. Or at least a poke-at-this-and-see-if-it-wriggles day.

Here, have a first line:

Nothing smells like money in the morning.