I figure it gives me room to expand for the question 
The two had been there all night. Just sitting there, the couple can’t have been comfortable on the cold iron bench they were sitting on. But neither of them moved all night, motionless in a tranquil moment of silent harmony. The inky darkness of the night was beginning to fade, and the couple found themselves basking in the early morning twilight.
From across the street, behind the protective layer of scratched glass, the lone bartender stood silently, feasting on the scene before him. The room was empty, still, and except for the one plate where the bartender had had his dinner, untouched. The bartender was just about to close, although why he stayed open so late was a mystery for anyone. Except the bartender, standing, staring, stalking.
“They’ll be gone soon,” the bartender said to the empty room, tilting his head to the side as he did so. “They’ll be gone, and I’ll be here,” he continued. “Standing, waiting. Listening, watching. Breathing, dying.” He sat down next to the bar, and began to pour himself a drink. He didn’t know the names of the drinks, and if he did he had long since forgotten. He navigated his way through the counters of bottles and glasses, darting left and right in pursuit of the drink. Ignoring the labels with their foreign writings, memory and angst were his guides, and he quickly found the bottle. Square, black and foreboding, the bartender reached for the bottle in a fever. It was strong, very strong, the bottle exuding sickly sweet scent. The bartender drained what remained of the flask, and hurled it down the room where it exploded in a thousand fragments.
Outside, the couple still hadn’t moved.
Outside, daybreak had pierced the shadows of the night, illuminating the gloom with joggers and dog walkers all performing their daily rituals. Mundane sounds of talking, laughing and vehicles filled the air and still the couple did not stir.
A policeman was making his way towards the two, the bartender looking on in silent intrigue. The policeman nudged the couple, trying to waken them from their slumber. And still, the couple did not stir. The policemen grew agitated, and he began shaking the couple in annoyance at their resistance. Still, the couple did not stir. The policeman’s face grew white, and a blank look overtook his face. The bartender met his gaze unflinching, staring at him for a moment, and then turned inside to begin his day.
The two had been there all night. Just sitting there, the couple can’t have been comfortable on the cold iron bench they were sitting on. But neither of them moved all night, motionless in a tranquil moment of silent harmony. The inky darkness of the night was beginning to fade, and the couple found themselves basking in the early morning twilight.
From across the street, behind the protective layer of scratched glass, the lone bartender stood silently, feasting on the scene before him. The room was empty, still, and except for the one plate where the bartender had had his dinner, untouched. The bartender was just about to close, although why he stayed open so late was a mystery for anyone. Except the bartender, standing, staring, stalking.
“They’ll be gone soon,” the bartender said to the empty room, tilting his head to the side as he did so. “They’ll be gone, and I’ll be here,” he continued. “Standing, waiting. Listening, watching. Breathing, dying.” He sat down next to the bar, and began to pour himself a drink. He didn’t know the names of the drinks, and if he did he had long since forgotten. He navigated his way through the counters of bottles and glasses, darting left and right in pursuit of the drink. Ignoring the labels with their foreign writings, memory and angst were his guides, and he quickly found the bottle. Square, black and foreboding, the bartender reached for the bottle in a fever. It was strong, very strong, the bottle exuding sickly sweet scent. The bartender drained what remained of the flask, and hurled it down the room where it exploded in a thousand fragments.
Outside, the couple still hadn’t moved.
Outside, daybreak had pierced the shadows of the night, illuminating the gloom with joggers and dog walkers all performing their daily rituals. Mundane sounds of talking, laughing and vehicles filled the air and still the couple did not stir.
A policeman was making his way towards the two, the bartender looking on in silent intrigue. The policeman nudged the couple, trying to waken them from their slumber. And still, the couple did not stir. The policemen grew agitated, and he began shaking the couple in annoyance at their resistance. Still, the couple did not stir. The policeman’s face grew white, and a blank look overtook his face. The bartender met his gaze unflinching, staring at him for a moment, and then turned inside to begin his day.
