Based on personal hallucinations. How cliche to be sitting here in the study of my Tuscan inspired home, alone and listening to the tapping of heavy rains against the glass windows. It was reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, only, I have no chamber door or the gentle rapping of a raven to distract me. Only the rain and the crackling of the warm fire in my hearth. A cold and wet winter’s night; it was unusual Arizona weather and even more so unusual to light a fire in addition to central heating. I turned the page of my book and adjusted accordingly in my chair so the light would illuminate every inch of the page and spare me…