I hastened off to see my psychiatrist and tell him my strange tale.
He shook his head and said, “Today I came upon a cockroach dipping its antenna into a bottle of ink and scratching away on a sheet of paper. Looking closer, I saw that a large pile of scribbled paper lay beside the insect. It had almost completed a longish novel!
“Must be something going around,” he continued, “and hopefully it will soon run its course.”