The ding of the entry bell caused the butcher to pause just as he raised his cleaver high above his head. It was far too early to receive customers. The shop doesn't open until later. 

Grumbling a low curse, he struck the blade down with enough force to keep it upright. The pork belly sat there, forgotten, as he wiped his hands on his apron and trudged towards the storefront.

Simon's footsteps thumped against the creaking floor until he reached the counter. "Oi, shop's still closed."