In a word: crap.

So it appears my primary activity today has been waiting and that three thousand words is beyond ambitious. Got the news that my uncle was hospitalised not long after this morning’s post, alongside a request from my sister that we get in contact with my parents and bring them home from their overseas holidays on the chance they’d get back here before the inevitable happens. On one hand that’s all pretty easy – this wasn’t entirely unexpected and it’s mostly a matter of e-mail, SMS, and some websearching for the phone numbers of hotels – but on the other hand there’s a lot of waiting around for news so we can move onto the next step.

I’m not terribly good at waiting. Nor at knowing what’s appropriate during the period where all you do is wait. At this point I’ve basically rattled around my flat for six hours, and I think I’m hitting the point where I either need to do something of go stir-crazy. Writing may well be it.

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PeterMBall

Peter M. Ball is a speculative fiction writer, small press publisher, and writing mentor from Brisbane, Austraila. He publishes his own work through Eclectic Projects and works as the brain in charge at Brain Jar Press.
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