Exhausted, James leaned back in his chair and stared at his computer. The open word document had a few sentences at the top, but nothing more. The words weren't flowing today. His inspiration had run dry. Or rather, he had plenty of inspiration. He just didn't know how to let it out.
“Live this,” he said, and stood to leave the room. It was a common phrase he used when nobody else was around. A few people had overheard him before, but nobody seemed to have figured out the meaning. It was just as well that they didn't.
Abandoning his project for the moment, he stepped outside. He shivered momentarily, but then began walking. He strolled down the street, smiling and nodding when he passed people, and arrived at the park. Finding an unoccupied bench, he sat and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later, someone came to sit next to him. They chatted pleasantly for half an hour about this and that, and then went their separate ways. James went back to his house and flopped back into his chair, the same as every day. He glanced at the knife sitting on his desk and let his gaze linger for a moment.
“Still too easy,” he finally said. “Not my place to decide that I deserve it.” Turning back to his computer, he began to type.