Whew. Over 8k words today.
First line of this chunk makes little sense out of context:
“Ho, you!” said the man at the desk, “you’re not going to your usual room tonight. You’re bunking with face here.”
The man at the desk has done the equivalent of yelling “Hey you!” to Al Neri after a bad day.
Last line of this chunk:
Not my fault if he walks away with sand in his face.
Graph!
I have now run out of the initial 10-chapter outline and will need to start doing some serious planning ahead again. Ferry commutes should be ideal for this purpose.
