Today is Set Settal, the national cleanup day. It happens on the last Saturday of every month. Evidently, Set Settal is usually the day when everyone burns their trash, filling the air with smoke, fumes, and dioxins. Luckily, it rained today, which discouraged all but the most determined pyromaniacs. The taxis didn’t run today, and the rain kept us inside, so I didn’t go anywhere further than the corner shop. I watched the last of the Harry Potter movies. I read some more of The Culture of Make Believe. I cleaned my room, as Bill insisted that we keep the spirit of Set Settal. I sprayed insecticide in my room, an antimalarial measure that makes me nauseous and anxious about what diseases I’ll develop later in life.

I was thinking about hate, insecticide, and the power of writing when I started on a story. This is the first time I’ve started a story in years. It’s funny to look back on the evolution of my fiction. I began by writing fantasy, starring magical girls who were destined to save their semi-medieval world. I moved on to modern-day stories with everyday characters. No magic, just people. Today, I embarked on a tale of dystopia, set at some undetermined point in the future. I’ve never finished a story. I wonder how far I’ll get on this one.