Liveblogging the fatal ramble - 2

[desperance]

Nineteen pages down. Thirty-one to go.

Deadline: still six-thirty. It's looking easy.
Pints of coffee consumed: one two
Nutriments: one apple, one Christmas orange, one white chocolate snowman, one crystalised plum in chocolate
Next anticipated nutriment: soup!
Distractions: a few chapters of The Count of Monte Cristo. Still nothing more. Internets still empty.
Feline assistants: still none. Still warmer downstairs. Traitorous little fuzzbutts.
Darling-so-far: He swayed like weed in the turning tide, and felt the water drag his dreams away.