Some days are runaway freight trains. The best you can do is activate the brakes, warn everyone of your situation, hang on, and hope nobody gets hurt. It’s a helpless feeling, watching the world whiz past, catching glimpses of astonished and outraged faces, while you smile serenely as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening, and wave. Meanwhile, under the surface, you are paddling like a whirligig in a tornado. When the train eventually comes to a clanking, lurching, shuddering stop, you breathe a sigh of relief and attempt to clean up the messy aftermath.

No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 537 (countable) words.

Did you write yesterday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer