Cast back into the Abyss

My mind should really be applied toward returning to London.  Far from the ideal of being back in Krakow, my home, it seems fate is tossing me back into the old east end, where another Christmas season at 18 Folgate Street beckons, and my spirit will find itself once more living in three centuries at once.  Almost as though my year in Poland had never happened.

And while these feelings hobble about in my heart, I find myself in a familiar place, 3 minutes from the end of a completed script, with no idea for the past three days on how to end it.