Sent the letters. Today is about receiving feedback from S–, and about working on the story. Morning Regrets has become The Path to Self-Consciousness (it still has both and neither title: the first is just the filename; the second is a working title, but it’s not appropriate for the story’s aesthetic mode). I’m still working on integrating those prayerful insertions of the name into the computer. The narrative will end at the moment of sending her a message. Wow. It should have been on Twitter, the website that I actually use; but it’s more funny that I had to use an adapter to pipe my message into another communication protocol. I used Messenger to slide into the DMs of an Instagram account. Hard to convey how funny that is. You can’t make that sort of thing up, so why would anyone ever bother trying to? I will never understand claims to fiction invented whole cloth.