This has been a day (and night) of terror.
I said that checking in on Tish was the last part of the bridge. I stalled enough on that, and it was due to fear. But that story went up, and after that... everything else would have been pure stalling. I could still write one-shots and do smaller stories as inspiration took me: I just would have been doing so while effectively standing in place.
I'm fully aware of how tumultuous my life is. (There's a medical blog coming up to cover what's been happening during my mother's current hospital stay, and it is not a short one. The latter half of the opening was written while waiting for the call which would tell me to pick her up from discharge. Nothing's come in.) I don't know if things can hold together long enough for me to finish, and that admission is pure honesty.
But I can't let myself exist in the sort of terror where I would never be able to start anything again.
10k first chapter posted.
Journey begun.