I settle on the wooden bench along the wall. The sun spills through the bay window on my right, interrupted by passersby heading to work. Droplets race down the glass, flickers of light captured within them. How rain falls while the sun still shines I’ll never know.

It’s quiet here. In the other room, muffled sounds of creation mix with vague voices and laughter. I place my notebook on the table in front of me and take a deep breath. Smells of earth, cocoa, and sugar cane fill my lungs. The rain stops but the remnants on the glass remain. With a smile to a stranger who sits close by, I open my book and lift my pen. All the pieces are falling into place, and inspiration is rising.