{"id":54821,"date":"2025-08-16T08:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-08-16T07:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/?p=54821"},"modified":"2025-10-17T20:14:09","modified_gmt":"2025-10-17T19:14:09","slug":"i-finish-my-draft-then-the-city-catches-fire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/?p=54821","title":{"rendered":"I Finish My Draft. Then the City Catches Fire.\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"A<\/a>
Hot in the city … A view from Fockeberg, looking west<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s something about the heat that maddens people, addles the mind and makes mischief. Moron that in a bit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, the joys of finishing a draft. Done work, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways<\/i>(*). I struggle to get past zero. Which isn\u2019t to say there\u2019s no happiness at having passed a millstone. There is. But it\u2019s a ring inside a coffee cup. You don\u2019t stare at it reminiscing about what you\u2019ve drunk; you go brew some more. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I\u2019m on holiday: work-pause. So I drop the control rods into my reactor and wait for things to cool. The occasional neutron of future projects pops in, causes a little excitement-fission, passes. I mull the next stages of the novel: the advanced reader copies, the professional editing, the marketing \u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I re-check that all the control rods are down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two days later, I\u2019ve settled enough to be bored. The Plan was to up sticks and travel somewhere beachier, but The Mathematician\u2019s reactor is still in full swing (a coding\/modelling thing) so I decide to head outside on my tod(**) for a walk in the sun. My face melts when I step outside. Unbeknownst to me, the city has caught fire. It blazes, bright behind sunglasses. The ground crunches like overcooked biscuits as I walk and the air smells burnt (though it could be my skin).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Seems we\u2019ve got us one o\u2019 those snazzy little heatwaves here in Europe. I later read that Spain and Greece actually are<\/i> on fire, and parts of Germany are kindling-brown. I head for respite somewhere leafy, green, and high: Mount Focke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ah, the mountain, pretty much the highest point in Leipzig. One hundred and fifty-five metres of loftiness and brick. You see, the \u201cmountain\u201d(***) is pretty much a monstrous heap of rubble dressed in turf and trees. Most major German cities have one, having received a generous donation of military munitions during WWII under which houses and factories collapsed and, later, had to be cleared away. Hence the omnipresent Schutt-<\/i> and Tr\u00fcmmerberge<\/i> (debris hills and rubble mountains). <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But they make for an engaging climb. I pass the split-bathtub benches by the entrance and make my way up the tarmac path. A couple of runners pass me heading downhill, deep in conversation and trailing sweatodorant. I settle in behind a dog-walking couple.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s cooler here. The ivy-spiralled trees arch over the path and meet in places, giving shade. Great Tits and Black Redstarts sing in the trees. The sound of traffic from Wundtstra\u00dfe gets louder as I reach the west side of the hill, quietening again as I turn round north, east, south, on my way to the top.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The runners come back up and overtake me from behind. They\u2019re silent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I see something curious by the turn off to The Quick Way Down on the north side of the mountain(***): two women walking a rather eccentric dog. It has a way of walking that puts me in mind of a Parisian dandy. At times it trots, then stops, then slopes off to the side, sits and watches. Preens. Pounces. Such style, such poise! <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s a cat. A cat in a harness doing whatever the f*ck it wants despite its owners\u2019 protestations. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m as amused as the other walkers are be-.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The top of the mountain\u2019s(***) a tonsure and I\u2019m ready for sun when I reach it. The cyberpunk tattoo surprises me though. It glows neon red and yellow on the elbow of a young man sat on the eastern viewpoint bench, phone in one hand, fag dangling from the fingers of the other(+). I almost \u2014 almost \u2014 get my phone out to take a picture, but deciding it might be invading his privacy somewhat, I just stand nearby and stare.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It runs from his upper forearm to lower upper arm, is rectangular with a fuzzy neon double-outline, dual coloured. I expect to see text begin scrolling across it. In fact, that\u2019s what I\u2019m hoping for. How long was I indoors?<\/i> Did I miss the cyber revolution?<\/i> No. It\u2019s the sun reflecting off of a brass commemoration plate on the backrest of the bench.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shake my head. How disappointingly 2025. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pass the two women again on the way back down. They behave like dog walkers: the leader barks a command to the handler to \u201cWatch out\u201d. The handler crouches, tightens the lead, watches me walk past. Apparently my reputation for animal attraction precedes me. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smile. My smile says, \u201cNot a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Back home, the bonkers continues on apace. I\u2019ve been sent funds to back a Kickstarter campaign for an expansion to the rather nice Memento Mori TTRPG(++). My bank\u2019s temporarily blocked it because of a suspicious reference. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet us know what “Mori” in reference “Memento Mori KS” refers to?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

(Why is there a question mark?)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m given the following options to chose from:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \n
  • A person’s name<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • A business or organisation<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • A vessel<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • More than one person or business<\/li>\n\n\n\n
  • None of the above<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n\n\n\n

    I\u2019m temped with 3, but chose 5 and am taken to another screen to write a small essay on why \u201cMori\u201d doesn\u2019t mean I\u2019m being paid a (meagre) amount to off someone or fund a death-cult start up. The funds are soon released.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    I hazard fewer and fewer people will be filling in the Reference box for bank transfers in the future, or simply opting to write \u201cMoney\u201d. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

    The heatwave grinds on for three days. This translates to the following routine:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \n
    1. Get up<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    2. Open windows<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    3. Make coffee<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    4. Drink coffee<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    5. Admire the sky<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    6. Close the windows<\/li>\n\n\n\n
    7. Close the curtains<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n\n\n\n

      I return to working on my book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      \u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      (*) Elizabeth Barrett Browning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      (**) German readers, no, this isn\u2019t a lower-case death. (Though I have been known to ghost-write.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

      (***) \u201cHill!\u201d I hear thousands of angry Germans cry. Your objections are noted and ignored in service to wilful ignorance. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      (+) Clearly not impressed with the view of the imposing Monument to the Battle of Nations in the distance. <\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

      (++) BackerKit, actually, not Kickstarter. TTRPG = tabletop role-playing game.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

      The work’s finally done and I set out for some holiday fun, deep into the searing heat of summer.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":54820,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[213],"tags":[214,263,261,209,255],"class_list":{"0":"post-54821","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-cf","8":"tag-city-fables","9":"tag-heatwave","10":"tag-holiday","11":"tag-leipzig","12":"tag-writing"},"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54821","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=54821"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54821\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":54893,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/54821\/revisions\/54893"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/54820"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=54821"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=54821"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/urbanmole.is\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=54821"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}