Later, I hied myself to Duffering Grove Park, having pulled out the manuscript of the infamous novel and shoved it into my backpack. Found a mostly shady bench and proceeded to dig into my prose.
Not a happy experience. The bastard doesn't need editing, it more or less needs a complete re-write. Maybe the 140 pages will be better. (Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease ...)
Also, was accosted by a young man carrying an armload of water-bottles.
"Excuse me sir," he said, "Would you like some water."
I was distracted by my bad prose and kind of grunted, only half-aware of his presence. "Huh?"
"Would you like some water?"
"Oh. No than you, I'm fine."
He nodded, turned and sauntered off, making a beeline for a couple of women sitting against a small, fence-off area (why it is fenced off, I have no idea). He wore a vest with a big red cross painted on the back and I realized he wasn't selling water, he was giving bottles of it away.
It's extremely hot today — has a heat emergency been declared? I considered running after him to find out just what the deal was but, well, it was too hot. Presumably the city is paying for it, and good for them.
I only managed to fall asleep