He sat in front of the window, watching the water flood the glass. Lightning illuminated the sky as he felt a sudden chill run down his back. The monsterous roar of the thunder clashed with the tranquility of the rain drops pattering on the roof. A life so quiet and desolate only left a writer wondering how far this story could go. Could it go further than the sands of time or deeper than the oblivion that swallows the ocean? The letters fly from his finger tips like a deranged enthusiast on the wake of devastation. The whispers creep in his head to continue. Is this man living a fairy tale that only millions desire on a daily basis, or is it as real as those raindrops streaking down the double paned glass? One more bottle should answer the question that burns the charred insides of his imagination.