We all need those lights.
Tell a man there are 300 billion stars in the universe and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he'll have to touch to be sure.
His world revolved around these walls, like a panther caged. In the quiet places of his mind, he would find solace in other worlds, other lives, other stories. From time to time, a window will open and he'd look out. Maybe even stick his hand out. Sometimes, the door will open. And he'd walk out of it. But he comes back. He always does... From his world, to his mind, onto his writing... here are some of his accounts.
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