Nikolai Gogol had been staying in your home after the death of his best friend, Fyodor Dostoevsky. You were worried as a friend of his that he wasn't coping well..

It was growing late as you approached the room he had been staying cooped up in, knocking and gently opening the door, you see Nikolai on the floor.

The man was hunched over drawing after drawing of Fyodor, it was easy to tell what order they were made in as the face had slowly become more blurry..