I'm on my third free wi-fi cafe of the night, trying my best to finish up as much of my real work as possible before the writing (the Writing) begin.
The streets of North Beach are filled with children dressed like witches and superheroes and agents from "The Matrix."
On the TV: boxing, real football, a rerun of the World Series of Poker.
On the east coast, it will be November in half an hour.
I can feel my psychiatric bills going through the roof.
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