It felt almost unnatural at this point to be so productive. A full 24 hours had gone by and the world had not ended, he couldn't believe it. Actual words...on paper!!! And they weren't some scribbled notes of some cliche or vague miniature story he’d only write to feel like he had done something that day. These were well-constructed notes filled with references and page numbers and mind maps! Full of creative outlets and storytelling he wondered if this was how it felt to be on recreationals and reach the clouds because his positive energy had never been this high before.

With a bounce in his step and a smile on his face, he was eager to keep going, the motivational energy was in his bones. Throwing a pillow at his trusted friend who crashed for the night on the couch he smiled wished them a good morning and continued with his ritual of making a cup of coffee but this time for two. He had a feeling today was going to be just as productive.

A few hours later…

The energy had left him once again, the feeling for writing had seeped out of him as if he was a city drain and the creativity the rainwater that flowed through. He laid dormant on the couch like a rare collectable couch potato put on display for a museum. He seemed lifeless. Solis thought the best countermeasure to this was to keep poking him every so often to write. The spur of the moment energy he had was gone and he was back to his usual self, he only moved once, jumping up as he heard the loud thunderous clap of Solis snapping him back into reality as he jumped off the couch.

“Right! We are taking a break and you're getting some fresh air, this is going to get us nowhere if we sulk all day!” He proclaimed with the confidence his nickname suggested. However, our dear writer had the energy levels of a retired snail enjoying his life of pension funds and bingo. He did not embrace the outdoors with such loving affection as his dear friend did. He was not a people-person, for he felt like an astronaut out in space with no helmet. It was intense and made it hard for him to breathe. It wasn't until he was attacked by a barrage of pillows that encouraged him to even move, well, if you can call lazily rolling themselves off a couch moving. But it was a start.

Cutting forward to a clean, dressed and freshly washed faced adventurer who had the demeanour of a man who had betted his enthusiasm and enjoyment on red but the bet resulted in black, and was about to venture into the world. The first step outside was a terrifying experience of flat ground vertigo: The sounds! The bright light! He hadn't seen the sun outside of his window for so long it had become blinding. The air was clean and his breaths were deeper, but even the positives of the beauty the world brought around him didn't subdue the anxiety he had every time a person would walk past as his thoughts began to wander.

“Do I look okay?” “What if people find me weird...” “Oh my god, I’ve stared at that person for too long.” “Why am I staring at the floor?” “Am I breathing funny? I think I’m being weird.” ''Oh god, why did we go outside?” “Am probably embarrassing him.” The thoughts streamed into his head as he started to hyperventilate, the floor around him becoming quicksand in his imagination as his heart rate increased to the speed of a Formula 1 car. He didn't know what to do. The world was dark around him, the sounds got louder, his vision smaller, he was sure he was going to break and shatter, like fine china that was about to collide with the floor.

Then all of a sudden he felt a warmth he could focus on, his eyes opening instinctively as he saw the hand of Solis snuggled in with his, no words exchanged as he just smiled reassuringly, as if his actions alone said: “everything will be alright.” It was then that he found enjoyment in the beat of the footsteps his companion created and the gesture of kindness that safely got him back home. He felt safe, he felt productive with him nearby, but he couldn't grasp why.

For now, he’ll just enjoy the sweet moments and continue to try.