The man, in his depression, sits at his table and begins to write. As the pencil moves across the page beautiful words begin to tumble out and extraordinarily evocative images fill the blank space in front of him. He writes more and the writing is good, and he is pleased with what he has written. His mood lightens, his happiness grows, but as it does the writing begins to worsen. The words slow, the pencil stutters. He begins to despair that they, the words, are gone forever. And in that despair he begins once again to write . . . .