Johnson sat behind his desk, piles of papers scattered everywhere as he mutters under his breath some lines for his new book. Nothing comes to mind. He was in the zone.

The eyebags evident under his eyes. 'How long hasn't he slept?...' you pondered.

He was a writer, a very well known one, but like any other writer, he's going through a writing block.

It's been three weeks since he last slept properly, or ate, or bathed... Only when you're there can he finally relax.