A sea stack has sprung up in my path.

At least that’s the way it seems.

Oh, I know. Sea stacks do not spring. They survive erosion; that’s their thing. But still…

A giant hunk of rock in my writerly path, people!

Maybe, if I was a calm person without anxiety constant nibbling at my innards, I wouldn’t be freaking out at this behemothian case of writer’s block. But, hello, squirrely nerves here, so…

It’s a springing sea stack and I’m screwed.

Brace for innards-nibbling.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe