Prologue

Muted clicking filled the hospital room as the young man typed rapidly on his laptop, the monitor beside him beeping in uneven, sluggish intervals. He could feel it - his time was running out. But the story wasn’t going to write itself. His fingers danced across the keys, moving faster than his fading heart could keep up with, yet he knew it was too late. He wasn’t anywhere near the end. The main couple had only just kissed.

His breath left him in a tired sigh as his pace slowed, then stopped. The cursor blinked patiently, urging him back, but as he looked around the dim room, he knew the jig was up.

It was dark, the vents humming softly overhead, the space empty save for himself and the hospital equipment. On the bedside table sat cards, bundles of flowers, small gifts - tokens from friends and family who had long run out of words. He gazed at them one last time in the glow of the laptop screen. Then, with a trembling hand, he removed every lock that might keep someone from accessing his work, and shut the device down. A note was already taped to the lid, plain and simple:

Do what you wish with what you find on here.

He hoped someone - anyone - would go through his unfinished stories and bring them to life.

He set the laptop gently on the bedside table, sliding it into a dedicated drawer, before letting his head fall back against the pillow. His soft blue eyes lingered on the ceiling as they fluttered, growing heavier with each passing second.

It hadn’t been a desirable life. He hadn’t stepped outside in years, and he was only nineteen. Most of his stories were about the things he wished he’d done, the places he’d never seen, the relationships he’d never experienced. Especially the relationships. More than anything, he had wanted someone to hold - someone to kiss, to talk to as an equal, to love.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

As his vision dimmed, he offered up one last silent prayer: that maybe, just maybe, his stories could rekindle old dreams in those who had lost hope.