A stream of consciousness writing that details the story of a writer and her inspiration. Eve Payne is a gloomy writer, any inspiration whatsoever that drives her to write is drying up, or at least until she meets one female sex worker by chance. Eve names her Concetta and begins writing stories with Concetta as the fountain where the story pours forth from. Alas, she finds out that she can’t do it. No matter how she writes, Concetta amongst those pages aren’t the same prostitute she’s enamoured by. Woe takes roots in Eve’s heart again. She’s infatuated with Concetta, and she knows that Concetta isn’t a character, much less anything she may hope to control.

Concetta…
Her customer says that they would call her so.

Eve Payne, a joyless writer gazes at the prostitute,
And aims to capture her within a flowing prose.

Beneath that thin fabric that falls down, revealing a lace pattern underneath,
One concealing her most enchanting grace.
Her breathes perked up, as captivating as the spires of the Sistine Chapel,
Her bare arms are those of a sculpture and its most delicate gesture, her allure flowing forth like the Trevi Fountain,
Reflecting that bright colour of Rome’s vast sky.