I'm dealing with a lot of clutter lately.
Cluttered schedule.
cluttered desk.
cluttered house.
cluttered mind.
And yet in the far reaches of my messy life lurks the last draft of the last story that I want to complete. It bubbles up every now and then--what a tease. If I can make it through all of the work events, birthday parties, soccer practices, baseball games, etcetera, I will finish the story. "Ssh," is what I'll say if you dare interrupt.