Pretty much nothing

has been happening except work and sleep. My train reading is 1788 by Watkin Tench, edited by Tim Flannery, and my night-time reading is Primo Levi's If This Is a Man, a translation for Everyman's Library that is littered with errors and oddities. The story is powerful enough to make it through all that.

No writing is being done beyond a few miserable scraps in notebooks.