I'm still editing, pushing that wobbly rock up its sand-covered ramp. Time blurs, the world shrinks to the single chapter in which I'm mired for days on end, and all things grind increasingly fine until the damn thing rolls back down the hill again flattening me on its way through.
And other than this, I'm just waiting.
But I can feel it approaching. Something stirs and at least the neighbors have it much worse. Old fire-bringer and his vultures, what a laugh. And at least no one is dripping venom onto my flesh.
Now where was I? Oh yes, back to my rock.