Like the light from a fire, piled around her were pages and books, scribbles and stories. Her face was glowing; her pencil flickered.
On the wall, shadows played out figures. A mother, shutting the door. A young boy, poking at a centipede. Two old men, crying on a bench. A woman, crumpling a piece of paper in her fist. A coyote, howling at a car.
Stories swirled around the room, lifting off the pages. She could not contain their life.
She wrote madly through the night.
song by jónsi