He looked out the bare window, searching. What a plain view and so limited for his purpose. There was nothing to see. The day was overcast, outside and in his mind. But he had to do something as he lay constricted in his bed. He couldn’t contemplate the future. He didn’t want to. What he really wanted right then was to grab a pad and write. Instead, he would use the best resource he had. He’d build the story in his head and if he never got to write it down, he’d take it with him and tell it there.