Like an unwound clock

I had not planned to spend my evening on an unsuccessful quest for the preferred brand of cat sand in this house (I have obtained a substitute which the cats have keyn-ahora deigned to accept), but at least it put me in the same parking lot as Porter Square Books, which I used as an excuse to ask if they had a copy of Sarwat Chadda's City of the Plague God (2021), which I have wanted to read since its inauspicious release date and never got around to getting hold of. As a slight partisan of underworld gods, I expect I will argue with it to an equivalent degree, but I like the way it has a cuneiform line of Gilgamesh running along the bottom of every page. I do not like the vanishing act this month pulled, but a cat is asleep in my lap.