The Gloaming Tower across the way has been dissolving all day; I can see it from my window. It started with the Golden Steeple on top; I noticed because the Ghede Zepplin tethered to it jerked & started drifting up all of a sudden. I have these mother of pearl opera glasses lying around from some escapade or another, so I peeked on over at it & there is a slew of Deadly Mimirs gnawing away at it. These boney heads just jawing away. I can't help but think the Skellington Murder (Unkindness?) might be connected; somebody is throwing Osseus megadeath weapons over this way. Which I'm not sweating; rain down your bombs, kids. Ain't been a lich's phylactery I couldn't crunch, force cage or no. So I tuck the curtain back over & get back to my Difference Engine. Clickity clack go the tabulating spider-legs. Meanwhile, I've been...what do they call it, chip-tuning my cellphone. Or is that just when you use it to make eerie music? Well, not that I say it that way, it is all the more appropriate, since that is all I get from it anymore. Stygian sing-song nonsense; like what if Charon was Tom Bombadil? Won't shut up about his golden apples, pennies over eyelids, singing to the gallows tree & his wife the lady River.