The raindrops fell upon the darkened window of Vincent’s writing room. Vincent, an old Venetian man slouched in his creaky wooden chair. His desk, a handcrafted masterpiece from his nephew, is starting to show damage. He had not cared for it much, why would he? His poem is what he needs to focus on! He had spent so much time locked in his writing room trying to perfect it! He could never get it ri...