Song of the Deep
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. A man to be alone with his thoughts, what a rare thing, James thought. He smothered the match, listening to the wind howl beyond the glass pane. His pages, yet to be filled, were scattered on the aged wood of the desk, his pen waiting patiently for him to pour his imagination through it like water through a hose.
