"A damn foreigner," Walter thought to himself as he stared at the wizened woman walking to him through the shadows. "How I help ye, Waltair Muyrgeets...on?" "A Slavic accent," Walter thought, "probably Romanian or..." "Czech," finished the woman. She was old beyond old; Walter couldn't remember ever seeing someone as wrinkled, as hunched, as withered as this woman appeared. She moved with deliberate care, placing each foot down before shifting the other. "Um, Madame Ruth? You sent me your. “Ok, let’s go”, you eventually say.We arrive at a tiny little place in town. I can tell that it is one of your favourites because everyone there seems to know you. The hostess starts to lead us to a table in the back and you stop her.“Can we have one in the centre Sally?” you say.“Of course Christian” she says.Sally leads us to the middle of the room and you pull out my chair for me and I sit. I order a Canadian Whiskey and ginger ale and you order your Samuel Adams. When the server returns. More

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