Started reading Stephen King's Duma Key. I bought a copy despite its cover design, which looks like it was lifted off the series The Curse of Oak Island--because it's set in Florida, because it's about a man who takes up painting, and because I want to read a really scary novel for a change. So far I'm just wading through a lot of the protagonist's personal frustrations and woes in life, combined with even more, unnecessary Americanisms, the kind of padding Stephen King's fat turkeys are usually overstuffed with.

At any rate it succeeded in making me take a two-hour, afternoon nap. When I woke up all the lights inside the house were turned off; the granddaughters must have gone somewhere while I was sleeping.

Lit afternoon joss sticks to the kuman thong and a tea light in our soapstone holder.

The sun begins to set in Cubao.