A dark bar. Dim lights. Minimal conversation.
Smoke wafts in midair, moving around in wisps, embedding itself into your clothes. You look up, and eye the mysterious stranger in the corner. Shoulders slumped over, his strong jaws unshaven. Raw; Manly. The scarce amount of light casts shadows upon the room, highlights the straight bridge of his nose, hidesthe rest of his face. There's an untouched bottle of beer on his table, and a cigarette in his hand. He's looking out the window, into the midnight sky and dirty snow lining the sidewalks. He's thinking deeply, or maybe not at all. You wonder what he's like, what makes him who he is. You want to walk over, you want to know him, but you don't want to interrupt his beautiful isolation.