In the book I'm writing at present, the heroine, Betony, is a thirty-something woman whose habit, when trying to make a decision, is to close her eyes.
Mostly when she did that she saw featureless darkness. Occasionally she saw something else.
It wasn’t any particular café, but Betony cast her mind loose and walked the streets in a meanspirited drizzle. She entered the first café she saw and sat waiting for inspiration. None came. She just got colder and more depressed.
Of course, something does come of Betony's cafe visit, but I've just realised this is another example of my colliding worlds. My dad, who was certainly nothing like Betony otherwise, told me once that he was a good speller because he could close his eyes and see the word he needed written on the back of his eyelids.
So, Betony shares a trick with my dad!