In a rundown, ill-reputable corner of Manehatten, there was an equally rundown and ill-reputable apartment building. As with many buildings on the so called ‘bad side’ of town, it had graffiti across much of its walls and the bricks that made up those walls were in such disrepair that it seemed the building would come down at the slightest provocation.

If someone were to keep their hood up and hide their face in such a place, no one would think it odd. Illicit deals and shameful acts that warranted such attempts at hiding your identity were common enough here. So when one such figure entered the apartment and made their way up to one of the rooms, no one thought anything of it or remarked upon it.

The figure knocked on the door in a previously agreed upon patter. The door opened to admit the cloaked figure and quickly closed behind him.

“What news brother?” A raspy hiss asked of the guest.

“Another cell has fallen to the Moon’s forces,” A similarly raspy hiss replied.

“Most troubling…” The first said, beckoning the visitor deeper into the apartment.

“What will we do your Grace? We are losing members faster than we are gaining them. If this keeps up, I fear the Children of the Formless Mother will soon be no more…” The visitor fretted.

“If only those fools hadn’t provoked the Moon so openly…but what’s done is done. We must consider carefully what we do moving forward,” The priest said solemnly, sitting down on a worn down chair.

“What can we do?” The visitor asked.

“Perhaps now that the Moon is aware of us, the time of carefully and passively increasing our ranks is past. Perhaps it is time we begin more…aggressive recruitment,” The priest mused.

“Aggressive recruitment?” The visitor repeated.

“Indeed. The Formless Mother will provide,” The priest got up and moved to a desk, beginning to write down a missive. The visitor waited patiently. Eventually the priest finished the letter and handed it to the visitor.

“Take this back to the head of your cell. Whatever you do do not let that letter fall into enemy hands. If the Moon were to discover these plans, it would be the end for all of us,” The priest said gravely. The visitor gulped but nodded.

“Now go!” The priest ordered and the visitor scrambled out the door, his precious cargo slipped into his bag as he hit the streets running. The priest watched him go, praying for the safe delivery of that letter. It wouldn’t be overstating it to say the very fate of this world lay in the outcome of this one action.

“May the Formless Mother watch over him…” The priest said solemnly. He then left the window and got to work. If this plan was to come to fruition, there was much work to be done. There was preparation to see to, contacts to make, favors to collect on, and so much more. Even if it would all be for naught if that letter fell into enemy hands…

Actual plot movement?! In my slice of life?!

Winter has come and as usual, I have become very cold and very lethargic. Moving preparations are progressing apace. Despite my lethargy, I've somehow been able to force myself to start a workout routine that involves 10-15 minutes on the treadmill in the morning and then 10-15 minutes on a stationary bike in the evening. I've been able to keep it up for almost 2 weeks so far.