Daytime. Interior: A writer’s bedroom. The desk is covered with discarded papers and we see as our protagonist sits hunched over his typewriter. His white shirt has begun to yellow after multiple days worn. Before him sits an empty glass the memory of its contents have left a visible circle in the worn wood beneath it. Fingers patter against the lettered keys, words devoid of meaning appear across the fresh page. Our protagonist is beginning to lose sight of it all, creativity can be fleeting when it is needed most. He reaches beneath his desk and pulls the cork out of a half full bottle with his teeth, spitting the cork across the room. He pours himself a healthy dram and breathes in the aromas of vanilla beans and stewed tree fruits that Writers Tears Double Oak boasts, before he takes his first sip. A smile spreads wide across his face upon his first sip, his palate is delighted with the almost melodic notes of lychee, vanilla, and stone fruit working in harmony. As he exhales heartily, a hot breath full of spiced chocolate leaves him and he is struck with the creativity he had spent his night longing for. The beauty of this Irish whiskey leaves our writer devoid of the tears of pain and enveloped in the congenial warmth of knowing for at least a moment he is fulfilled, in taste and in the written word.
