The bar sat crooked at the edge of the village square, its wooden sign hanging by a single rusted chain. Inside, the air was thick with smoke, cheap alcohol, and the low murmur of exhausted voices.
It was the kind of place where people gathered not for joy, but for habit-where worries were drowned one cup at a time.
A man near the counter suddenly doubled over.
A harsh cough tore from his chest, loud enough to cut through the chatter causing heads to turn. Someone laughed awkwardly, assuming it was nothing more than a drink gone down the wrong way.
"You alright there?"
A woman asked, leaning closer.
The man waved her off, coughing again, harder this time.
"Yeah-yeah. Just… dust."
He rasped, forcing a grin. But another cough followed. Then another.
At a nearby table, a second patron pressed a hand to his mouth, shoulders shaking as a similar fit overtook him. The sound spread slowly around, echoing uncomfortably through the bar.
"Hey…that's starting to sound bad."
