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The tavern was loaded that night. Babette, the waitress, was running in all directions, hardly keeping up with the orders of the customers. While the dining room was pretty crowded, only five people were sitting at the bar that was also belonging to the tavern. It was called ‘Big ol’ Tom’s tavern – the place where stories are told’. Big ol’ Tom’s customers had always been telling stories, it had been a year-long tradition. The better part of these anecdotes were tales of love, passion and sex. This evening was no different.

Of these five people sitting around the bar, four were regulars, some of the most attentive listeners to any kind of story. The fifth was a man in his late thirties, sitting in the very corner of the bar, alone, silent, tired looking eyes. The half empty pint before him seemed to be the focus of his interest.

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