Late Night Confession #18

In 2006 I thought about writing a novel that took place in a mental institution/psych ward/convalescent home for the troubled that was built on a mountain, with nothing nearby for miles. The story was going to revolve around a series of a dozen ping pong matches that a patient and his doctor/counselor were having. Each chapter would feature another match and, most importantly, the table talk between them. I wrote a few pages, I think, and drew the craggy mountain, but let that one stay in the drawer since. God have mercy on its soul.