The shadow of a dark cloud you felt hovering over you, an illogical premonition of inevitability, feather-dusted by randomness into reality. Where can you find the strength to keep from going mad? How can you exorcise the accumulated ghosts that have gathered over the years? Not one of them has ever left. Where is the light you once held? Who—or what—can rekindle the flame that burned so bright, bathing your dreams in warmth? That singular passion of adolescence— when you trained your mind to mold inchoate forms— is that magic still within you? Please, we need you. Once again. Come back to me.