The story goes not forth, without time to reflect, while the words remain etched within the confines of my imaginary word-smith friend. But I found an escape, only recently, from the torture that had kept the remaining story from unfolding.
Yes! I am about to embark on the conclusion of this story that I began a fortnight and forty ago. Soon, my work on this tale will finish and nobody can stop me now. So we all have stories to complete, while fugitives from the demons of our own making, and exorcise excuses to finish them. I think so.
But the broken wheel that keeps us from finishing the race is a crutch, I believe. I will not allow the trespassers on my goal to finish this story and keep me from telling what I know. I am going to write whether or not it snows tonight.