With the sun shining ever so brightly on her body, making her clothes stick to her already tired and warmed up skin, she didn't try to get up and swap places. She could have easily done so, but something about the uncomfortable heat combined with the tiny and extremely uneasy moving space around her, made her stay exactly were she was now. Maybe it was to make the writing look more easy to do. Perhaps both the uncomfortable situation and the sound being just a fraction too loud to be called bearable, made her wonder, made her think writing was her own choice.
If it weren't, she would have stood up and walked away, wouldn't she? Her own choice. The one thing that she couldn't control though, not ever, was not the weather, or better said, not the only thing besides the weather. No, it was something else. Her own choice, ha! She wishes. If something between the sticky clothes and the immense headache made her think she had anything to decide at all, it wan't the words she wrote, that's for sure.
"They are just letters, there are only a series of 26 of them, along with a few dots, numbers, commas and what not. Anyone could arrange and rearrange however one pleases", she thought. "I'm only selecting from the heaps of symbols, creating and constructing my own personal ideas", she thought.
This time, she didn't know she was trapped. This time, she truly believed she could stop writing whenever she wanted, whenever the music started destroying her ability to think straight. "My hands won't take over this time", she thought. "Not this time they won't." This time it wouldn't be her mind trapping itself, unable to ever stop without the fight within. "This time, I can stop", she thought. She thought.
The Spanish songs had already been replaced by the sounds of a piano some time ago. The sun still shone, though not as bright as it did before, and her clothes still stuck to her tired body, only not as much as before. Maybe this was it. Perhaps she could really stop writing for real now and decide to quit it, once and for all. Nothing more after this time, not again. She looked outside, holding her pen as tightly as she could, afraid of letting it go only to be forced to pick it up again. She slowly laid her head on the poorly shaped headrest, designed to break necks whenever used. Regardless of the comfort it failed to give her, she closed her eyes. "No more", she thought.