I've been sitting here for 15 minutes, fingers poised over the keyboard in hopes that inspiration will fill my sails. No such luck; they hang heavy and slack, mildewed, cobwebbed, a few hairy moles appearing here and there. Which is neither, as it happens. Or as it were, I forget which. So carry on, everyone, go about your business. Nothing to see here. My mind is waiting in a crude shelter amidst the stones, filled with the waiting. There's just no room for anything else right now.