Had one of those cascades yesterday on the way to pick Miss Kid up from school. Scribbling in the notebook at every stoplight. Parking her at the kitchen table as soon as I got home - "Do your homework; try to only call me if you actually need me. Yes, you can have a fruit & gel cup. I'm going to go downstairs and write now."
Downstairs, typing to the tune of all the futuristic-ish dance music I've got. Typed that. And more. Stuff that isn't ready to share yet, because I hit the word "obsolete" too much. Heh.
This is a few different things. Interesting. I'm sliding into the youth-culture thing a bit, which I wasn't even thinking of in the original idea. I wonder how that fits.
There are some pretty specific youth-culture things that go here. I think this one can't be planned; I think it's the kind of thing where I have to just sit down and tap the vein and let it spill.
This is a girl on a mission. A mission that she refused. She is not human. Nor is she Dasaroi. She's something I've "known" about, but nothing I've shared with you.
I'm sure none of this makes sense, but it makes more sense than the notes I scribbled last night. Heh.