In the absence of light, by the corner of dying candle, A sad figure sits by alone, gazing blankly at flames as they meander with the tides of the currents. Before him an aluminum jug filled to the bream with ale for his consumption. Around him are few club goers who seat quietly, dozing on the strong alcohol, gulping liters of it to earn a timely respite from the problems that of life that plagued them. The man in the corner, didn’t look like the rest of the handful in the inn. His composure is unique and so is his body language even though he hasn’t stood for many to...