Lightly she slid her fingers along the cool surface, as if to pull something from the depths of her mind. The tips of each nail circling the other, a motion that graduated from a brush, to something of a tap. A melody beginning to form, a drum of rhythm allowing her imagination to wander. Her mind was racing; hurdling over one idea and crashing into the next. Nothing was satisfactory. Starting to twiddle her thumb and finger, she moved her eyes skyward, locking her gaze out of the window. The shimmer of dew rested atop the darkened cobblestones, catching the light that cut through the air as the clouds parted. A faint outline of the Eiffel Tower impressed upon the grey skies in the distance. Trickles of people made their way around her; past the antique buildings, past the window, the petite tables and chairs, the fresh smell of coffee and scones. A large yawn escaped her parched lips, she then turned her head, forcing her eyes to focus, once again, on the blank page.