The small tavern on the corner of Old Lanton Street, stubbornly remained lit amidst the fog that knew no day or night.
The sound of the broken wind chime at the door rang as a frail figure stumbled inside.
The patrons in the tavern showed no reaction to the arrival of the unexpected guest, not even sparing him a glance.
He plopped down at the bar counter, extended a trembling hand, and placed a crumpled bill down.
"A glass of vodka."
"This bit of change isn't enough."
"For God's sake, that's all I've got."
The bartender frowned, took out a glass, and poured him half.
"Have some mercy, just a little more."
The man was about to persist when the wind chime at the door rang again, and he hurriedly downed the drink in one gulp, the high alcohol content burning his esophagus, scrunching his features.
"Damn Sca... Chinese?"
Seeing three Asians walk in, the man immediately felt a wave of regret.
Had he known, he wouldn't have drunk in such a hurry.
