The fear, the panic, the white screen is behind him. He runs away from them. The writer s block must be purged. He must be purified. He darts up and down the streets.
Lights flicker on and off.
The stars twinkle in their perpetual symphony. Everything is quiet. He needs noise. He wants the whole world to hear him. He wants the frustration to be passed onto the unwary souls, sleeping their nightly reveries in their dark houses.