While Day One of the writing binge passed without incident, Night One saw the revolt of my four-legged, furry muse.
Five times my little sweetness and light demanded in no uncertain terms to go outside.
Five times my braindead self let the rebelling tyrant out into the Florida swamps.
While this may bode ill for Day Two, I and the grumbling muse will persevere. Twisted Intent will get done by the 28th come hell or swamp.