The same images had been haunting his dreams and his waking life. This man, still in the vitality of his youth, had lost all bearings of which was what. There stood his good friend who he had loved in a way he had never dared to mention. Only she was a colossal size, and in her claw-like hand, she held the Earth - a planet living and breathing. The planet would slowly wilt in her hands and die, as he watched helplessly, until what stood in its place was the moon. The moon, reflecting the rays of the Sun - a shining globe. A globe in her hand, and before he could wonder what magic it was, now she was tiny. She walked among his teeth - a tooth fairy, shining light everywhere she walked.

​

At other times, it was not just her hands or her size - she was a fierce bird of prey, circling over him as he fought the onrushing wrath of rapids in a raft. He had one goal in mind - to survive. When he would briefly look down into the waters, her shadow and his were merged into one. 

​

Then there was the most enigmatic of all - a room with a single candle and an old man, always hunched over, writing. He never saw the old man's face. Until one day, quite suddenly, the old man got up and looked at him. And he realized that he was the old man himself, and what he was writing was the story of his own life. And just like his own life, she was on every page - his eternal muse that guided him so he was not torn asunder by the demons of the age.