The bar opened right on time, and Max Starnes was first through the door. It was a small place. Only a little light came through the high narrow windows, and the odour of stale beer hung in the air. In two hours he was well on the way to oblivion. When Peter, the bartender, switched on the news Max didn’t bother listening to the story; his mug of warm beer occupied his attention. That’s why she was able to just walk up to him.
“Hello Max, it’s been a long time.” A tall woman stood at the opposite side of the table.
Max looked up. Her hair was shorter, and there was a bit more grey in it, but it only took him half a second to recognize her. “Shit.”
Dispatches from Obscurity 