It was a really dark and foggy night outside, and only a lone pair of lanterns lit up the dull street. David sat on a bench outside the hospital, holding a jar of painkillers in her hands and nervously running her eyes over the label. He hurriedly put the pills in his pocket, taking deep puff of his malboro and occasionally looking around, running his eyes along the road. His hair was slightly tousled, and his eyes expressed wild weariness. He often sat in this place, on a bench near the wall of the hospital, looking at the horizon.

— Fuck.

The man muttered barely audibly, looking at the cigarette.