There had not been many customers for many days. One had come once, but left after his free drink. Another came later, though he unfortunately, had one too many and was taken back to his ship and jettisoned.
A lady sat at a table to the left, close to the front of the bar. She had simple clothes, yet with a large, furry jacket. A white parasol lay by her feet, slightly damp as some of the ice began to melt. A small boy was with her too, no older than 10 years of age in appearance. He sat quietly, swinging his legs on the frozen chair sipping a strawberry milkshake. The lady knew it was not the place for him, but there was nowhere else to go. She had been here the longest. She was always here.
At a table on the far right side sat a man at a table with a briefcase. He sat silently, stirring and sipping his drink occasionally. He had arrived an entire week beforehand, quietly returning to his ship to sleep. At his table, a reserved sign lay still placed. Reserved for him, apparently. He spoked to nobody but to whom he needed to speak to. The Briefcase was labelled with a cheap post-it-note with nothing written but "10m" written on it. He had only one person to see and would not see anybody else.
The boy got up stretched and yawned before sitting back down again.
"What's wrong?" the lady asked.
"Nothing... Just tired. Nobody came today. Nobody ever comes" replied the boy.
"But they will come. And we'll wait until they do, and greet them with many welcomes" said the lady.
They both looked over to the dark man in with the briefcase. His bowler hat was tipped downward covering his eyes. Half an hour later, he began to snore. He had fallen asleep.
