A man in a tidy uniform entered the room, his short hair parted perfectly clean. Only his face disturbed the image of a poster soldier. The pouches under his eyes made him look like he did not sleep in days, as did his shuffling walk to the nearest armchair in wich he fell as soon as he reached it.
He darted a short look at the man behind the bar who promptly brought him an ale. They exchanged a few words after wich the barman left him alone.
This really had not been Grahams day, he had to do a double shift and needed to get back on his feet before doing anything else.
