As always, the dinner was crowded. It shouldn't be a shock to Debbie. It was the lunch rush and everybody wanted to eat out during their lunch break and they were one of the fastest place to get a bit to eat. She should have known that, working here for over four years. She pressed and rolled the dough, the same thing she did each and every day. A small pattern that she had grown used to. Roll the dough, sprinkle the sugar on top, rub the dough and get her cups to press them together.
She looked out to see the usual crowd and then back at her wall of places that she were saving to visit. Paris, Scotland and California. There was a reason for each of them. She wanted to go to Scotland to see her extended family. To California to visit her old childhood. Last, but certainly not least was Paris. He was waiting for her in Paris. Her long distance boyfriend. She missed him so much.
After looking at all her posters, she took the dough out and placed them individually on the tray. These were the staple of the restaurant, the homemade buns that they were known for. She walked over to the oven and placed them in there to make sure they cooked and got the timer to put them in for the time. She turned on the fan to get the dough off of her hand and also to cool off. She knew that the back got hot once the oven got hot. She looked over at her cups.
She started to make a beat with them. One, two three. The flour flew into the air. She repeated again and again, continuing to play to relieve her boredom. She did this often and nobody was bothered by it. The cook had his word search book, she played with the cups. She hadn't had a single customer complain about it yet. Well, except her boyfriend, but he always did it in a teasing fashion.
She was surprised when Mario was tapping his wooden spoons and grabbed the dish and watched outside. Apparently, he wasn't the only person in the restaurant who was interested in being musically inclined. The first family she ran into repeated her cup motion as did many of the other patrons. She hadn't realized she had inspired so many people as she served the food.
She had nearly forgotten about her job, but she picked up the bin and watched as they handed her the cups and continued to paly. It made her so happy that people liked what she was doing. There was so much more joy in her life than she cared to admit. She took the cup and started to clean in the glass as she walked away.
The bartender even gotten in on it, flipping the cups as she walked back and noticed that the chef was happily involved too. It made Deb happy that others took joy in her hobby and she went back to playing with her cups. She noticed that everybody had stopped and she noticed that the chef was staring at her and she was happy that her shift was done as she stepped into the light.
Tommorrow would be a brighter day.
You are your only barrier, so break free and write as you will! 
