a.m.

ah, how the fickle finger of fate pokes, prods and is generally rude. get that thing out of mah face!

i wonder what wonders the day holds. as i sally forth....what spectacular vistas to behold from my window office looking out over the grey city.

the boss appears to be paranoid. caught as it is now in the knowledge that i have untangled the evil web woven. where will the knives come from. out of which closet, elevator, stair well will the ghosts and zombies of its evil doing pour, seeking retribution, shouting the truth.

only the day knows. and indeed -- the day does know.