The cold hard rain pelted the roof of the old wooden cabin. Under a small hole in the roof was abucket. The only noise heard was the faint sound of an old radio and the tapping. Tap, tap, tap. Theonly resident stood at his work desk. Looking down he saw all of the words he had written, all of thespells drawn right, yet he felt something was off.Something was off. He couldn’t figure out what this feeling was. He still felt it. It never went away,and it plagued his thoughts. The only trace of what was right and what was wrong could solely befounded by his eyes. He resumed his work, ignoring the noise and his thoughts as the sun began torise…