The trek through the perilous Forest of Wordage is beginning to take its toll. I'm 6700 words in, perfectly on course, but I keep finding myself falling victim to the Distraction Traps. Twitter, Facebook, and Absolute Write page refreshes lie in my future, overreacting characters in my past. I take comfort in knowing that it's all behind me and the move forward is beginning to form more of a defined path, less of a thick mass of seemingly unending forest.
At least the rations are plentiful. My journey isn't without the necessities: coffee, chocolate--just what I need to survive the sleepless nights. The looming threat of the next day's word count is like an invisible monster hot on my heels. If I don't move faster, I'm sure to be crushed under the monster's weight.
I've run into others on my quest. They tell tales of two, friends from distant lands crossing the ten thousandth threshold. They're rumored to be named Sage and Becca. Chances of meeting them through the thicket are low, but I refuse to not make an attempt.
Tomorrow is a new day and the next days after it are wide open. I plan on doubling my pace with each new day; change speeds from meandering along to pushing myself further. What new word counts will I see? 3000? 4000? Could I possibly see 5000? The idea seems foolish, yet the coffee running through my veins might just be enough to make me believe.
My short rest is almost over. Night time approaches, and the Distraction Traps become fewer and farther between. It's my chance to act, to take that chance and get ahead. Maybe the Word Count beast will cease its chase, allow me to not look over my shoulder. Maybe I can catch up with the quick-moving Sage and Becca someday.
Only the speed of my typing and the quickness of my imagination will tell.