You’re a research chemist working on a cure for multiple sclerosis. There’s no time to waste. Your weakening legs mean you’ve had to give up wearing high heels, and soon you’ll need a wheelchair. This is what’s called motivation.
You’ve derived an enzyme from the stem cells of a seahorse; it seems promising. When you tried it, the threadbare London University lab disappeared and before your eyes was a coral reef, blazing with color, and the warm drag of seawater against your skin as you swam strong and free. This is what’s called inspiration. A tweak or two and you’ve created the ultimate drug—a pill that makes your fantasies seem totally, utterly real.
