A Heavy Metal Story

I walled myself into a tiny room with a twin bed and a sink in the middle of New York. I put just enough raw food and fruits in the closet to keep myself alive, and stashed some beer in the locker for sanity (didn't work). I morphed into a hermit and did nothing but work on this story. It's nearly done, and it has taken the wind out of my sails.

I did go a little wacky for a bit. I've been so far removed from life, reliant only on a few online communications, and my time has been spent in this small room. My head has been wrapped around my past like a vice, squeezing out some hard memories. It's pulled me into a strange state of mind that I'll have to break come tomorrow morning when I go. I could have sworn the water in my tiny sink started running by itself. I woke up last night thinking someone had touched me while sleeping. I've been waking up every morning feeling like I'm not even in this time zone anymore. It feels as though I've traveled backwards and forwards, and time is jumping all over the place. I have to keep tabs on my phone clock to make sure I leave here when I'm supposed to. I've been lost in my own story, nostalgia beating the emotion out of me until I can't focus on anything else.

But you will have a neatly packaged novella full of organized chaos in around 2 more weeks. And it will be a heavy metal story.