He slid behind the counter, as the clock ticked past 6:00. He knew that he was e arly, but couldn't do anything about it: the strange voice on the other end of the telephone had insisted that he be here on time, and the only way that he had ever found to be on time was to be early.
A car drove by in the pouring rain outside, headlights flashing across the back wall of the cafe as the drover turned through the intersection. Although it was still early, the sky was slowly lighting up... from deep purple overhead heaidng to pink in the east.
Should I bother failing at NaNo again this year?
Should I try to do NaNoWriMo?