There was something strange about the man in the corner of the pub. No specific thing, he just seemed… off.
Not a big man, or particularly imposing, but something about him drew my eye the moment he walked in the door.
He seemed twitchy, like a spring wound too tight. A dark cloud hung over him, as though he was waiting for something or someone to set him off.
To give him the excuse to vent his frustration.
I finished my own beer, free hand resting on the straight razor in my jacket pocket, and wandered over to say hello…