Sarah Dawn was restless. She had just recently moved to the small town of West Haven and she was not getting acclimatized to small-town life as she thought she would. She was used to the hustle and bustle of thousands of people around her, a far cry from the pace and size of West Haven. Sarah had only been in West Haven for two weeks, so certainly there was room to meet the eccentrics of the town, but everything was just so different. No horns honking, no cell phones ringing, nobody in a hurry. She was an artist and traveled to West Haven in search of inspiration. The ordeals of city life had begun to grow on her: not enough sleep, too much coffee, too much booze, too many cigarettes. It had been at least a month before her decision to move to West Haven that she had drawn anything, even a sketch. She seemed in an artistic rut and thought perhaps a change in scenery might somehow drum up some ideas.