Ugh, the basement. The basement is a place of cold and discomfort, where spider webs are probably coating the backside of everything you can see. If not black mold. Why am I coughing? Is there a link? No, wait, I had a sinus infection last week. Life is unfair. It is 6:35 pm and I felt like I was going to sign off for the night, but then I thought - ummm, oh yah. You should probably write tonight. Before you go upstairs. It is bad for your cold fingers and cough, but good for your soul. Write little writer, write! It is suspiciously quiet. I get why the world outside my window is silent; but for the howling winter winds. I mean, who would venture out into that? It's pitch black and somewhere in the low 40s. I secretly love this. But why do I not hear music, tv, kitty cats? The rustle of humans and felines above my head, enjoying the heated portions of our house? Aha - a 'mute' button hath been unpressed. A woman's voice, very old-timey in her diction, is muffled...