tip-toeing
There's a point you get to, sometimes, when writing down the story is like drinking from a very delicate, very full cup. You know you're fortunate to have such riches, and yet there's the sense that things could go wrong if you misstep. The glass will crack, and everything will seep away and you won't be able to get it back. These over-filled cup times are few and far between, and thus all the more precious. My mind is mostly with the story, and I can't afford, really can't afford, to let it wander too far off. So I'm writing. I'm in that rare space, breathing deep. More soon.