Outside in the early spring night rose a harmonious cacophony of intermittent howls, bare boughs lashing at their neighbors, and eddying sand failling to pierce the windowpanes. As this gusty wind filtered in through the window screen, the air in the room began to smell of dust, and the desk, the keyboard and the pages he had been reading all night were arrayed in a flimsy coat of dirt, visible in the tiny oasis of lamplight, when he emerged from his fictional world, a mythological wonderland of transcendent beauty and bliss materialized by romantic poets of yore.
