Papers lay scattered around the room, the earthy scent of aged wood  permeated throughout. A pen scribbles on paper, for what feels like hours. The wind weaves outside, through the trees and brushes against the glass window, sounding like a haunting melody—the weeping of ghosts.

A lone man sits on a wooden chair, his back hunched over and arms layed flat on the wooden table. His long, unkempt, dark hair hangs low at around his shoulders, his clothing consists of a plain white t-shirt, and some denim jeans. His furrowed brows strain against his narrowed eyes, lost inside his own thoughts, sometimes tapping his pen on paper or fidgeting with his fingers.

”No.. This isn’t right!” He growls, paper is thrown into the air—before all falling down and piling up onto his other discarded work. 

Patience.

The man takes a deep breath, inhaling air into his lungs throgu his nostrils and out from his mouth.

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He stands up, the chair making a loud scraping noise from being pulled backwards, and makes his way towards his bed for a good nights rest, after having a good stretch.

The bed creaks as the man sets his weight on it, he lays his head back and slowly drifts off into sleep.

”Sight, smell, sound, taste, touch—These are the five senses belonging to a human being.” 

The man points his finger in utter fear.

“Then what is this? This feeling—It in no way belongs to any of these senses! It.. It’s something else!”

He falls off of his bed onto the wooden floor—Well not so wooden anymore, as it’s covered in paper, piling up to cushion his body like a pillow.

A solemn wind starts blowing throughout the room, moving the paper around the room like a tornado. Books fall off of shelves and candle light flickers.

”What’s happening, what’s going on!” He holds his head, slowly shaking it back and forth before lying down.

He then spots the novel he wrote floating up, he dashes to clutch it in his arms.

Space starts distorting, time moves erratically, the room beats like a living heart, the walls cracking and slowly collapsing on themselves.

A vibrant kaleidoscope of unknown colours start swirling in his vision, before he blacks out.