Three weeks. Three full weeks of lost time I cannot get back. All the time between my last post and this one was wasted doing nothing. Well, filled with other life “stuff” … but that “stuff” was not writing, so the time feels very wasted.
The river of words has dried to the point where its bed is cracked and peeling. The vegetation along the river’s edge is bare, rising above fallen leaves that crackle and break under any weight. There is no way to travel from the river to my desk without waking the dead, but I’m going to do it.
Just trying to get back in the swing of things now. Don’t know if I’ll get there soon or not, but I’m not giving up. Keep me in your thoughts, I will need it.