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A grey squirrel scampered across the grass, pausing every few steps to listen. When he reached a stand of trees on the other side of the green, he scurred up the trunk of a hundred-year-old chestnut tree and disappeared among its branches. Andrew stared up at the leaves, hoping to catch another glimpse if the small creature as it hopped from branch to branch, chattering away. The squirrel's noise was quickly drowned out by the squeals and laughter of several children as they came running along the path behind him. Three women followed after, two were pushing prams and the other was carrying a young toddler on her hip.

He watched them pass for several seconds before returning to the notepad on his knee. He tapped the cap of the pen against the page rhythmically for several seconds, hoping something would emerge from the sounds. Nothing came. Andrew sighed and flipped the notebook closed.

This is why we only write in the studio at home, you knob, he thought. You've the the attention span of a schizophrenic weasel when you're outside.

Andrew tucked his notebook and pen into his backpack and stood up, slinging the bag over one shoulder as he walked. His long limbs made quick work of the stone path and soon he found himself upon the three women and their children. A small child toddled across the path, nearly tripping him.

"I am so sorry!" a woman from the group said as she rushed over to scoop up the child. "She's so fast."

He gave her a smile, tucking his hair behind his ear. "Not a problem, really."

The woman smiled in relief and shifted the child from one hip to the other. "Thanks. Have a nice afternoon!"

He returned her wave politely and continued through the park. The trees were full of singing birds and chattering squirrels, and sunlight kissed his shoulders through his t-shirt. By all accounts, it was a beautiful late Spring day...if he ignored the voice in his head screaming at him to finish writing the song he'd been grappling with for weeks. The melody was there, but words were failing him. A peal of laughter made him look over his shoulder and he caught a glimpse of the woman, tossing the child up in the air and catching her.

The woman's smile made him think of the sun.

***Two Days Later***

Andrew walked quickly down the sidewalk, struggling to keep his hair out of his face as the wind blew incessantly around him. A newspaper fluttered by on the sidewalk and he bent to pick it up and throw it in a trash bin. He shook out his hair again and combed his fingers through in an attempt to get it under control.

Strand Street in Bray was always busy, and today was no different. He had to step around two families as they stopped to take photos in front of the ocean. The high tourist season had begun and people from all over the UK and Europe started their descent on Bray, County Wicklow and they wouldn't leave for the next six months. He knew he shouldn't complain; the town was small and without the tourism industry, it would have disappeared years ago. But it didn't stop him from wishing there was just a little more space to keep them all.

He ducked into a coffee shop to get out of the wind and sighed; the line stopped at the door. About twenty people were ahead of him, waiting to place their orders. For a moment, he contemplated leaving. There were other coffee shops in town.

But none of them make a coffee like Leo does, he found himself thinking.

So Andrew settled in for the wait. The line moved slowly and a full five minutes passed as he inched forward. He busied himself with taking in the decor - even though he'd been coming to this coffee house for over five years. Old photos of local town and county events covered the walls. A large chalkboard hung over the barista counter displaying the menu. Two dozen tables of varying sizes filled the room and every single one of them was taken. He shifted his weight on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to ignore the melody playing on repeat in his mind.

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