I sit down at the lonely bar. Outside, the street lamps light up the occasional forms of people passing through. They are not stopping here. Musak is gently drifting from a speaker over in the corner, and i could have sworn i recognised a melody in there.

“The usual?” asks the barman.

“Ah, you know me too well,” i smile.

A moment passes, and the barman places a loaf of bread before me. It’s been a long day. I tuck in.