I think the novelette is attempting to be lingering and elegaic in feel. Or, as we say in the trade, "dull as ditchwater."
That's probably unfair. I am really bored with it, but that happens a lot, and some of the stories that most thoroughly bored me to tears when I was writing them have done amazing well out in the world. "And the Deep Blue Sea," for example, which I wrote wincing at every word. And Undertow, which bored me to gnawing my own wrists when I was writing it.
I dunno, maybe I'm just jaded.
Still, another 1100 words and change tonight, despite being out all day.
Tomorrow is slated a writing day, and thank dog, I am out of social commitments for a while. Because seriously, I am reaching the point of never wanting to see a human being again.
Possibly not even the cat.
This is a sign that it's time for some hardcore introversion, I think.