Everyday without fail the same man comes in. Orders his sandwich, tips, and leaves. Day after day. He's handsome, that's an obvious observation, and he's well put together. He probably is the type to have a morning routine, methodically tending to himself. Yeah, that makes sense.

The bells on the door jingle, signalling his usual arrival. He steps up to the counter. He's tired, his eyes are darker and his expression is sullen. He works himself to the bone, it seems.

"The usual, please. I’ll be eating in today, if you don’t mind.”

He paid, tipped, and moved towards a secluded part of the bakery. I wonder what happened to make him react like that.