The stench of gritty, cold coffee and the remains of a passed fight hung outside the cafe.
The stench of must and whiskey mingled with a thick fog to create a pallet of brown in the air. A few early customers sat gloomily, every so often clinking a few dirty coins on the table and shuffled out.
I child creeps through the gloom.
The taste of smoke becomes prominent as the slides quickly into a decrepit, old inn. The it had wallpaper looked as if been there for decades, creeping away from the wall so slowly, it seemed stationary.
Table were over turned, chairs on there sides, wine and beer bottles laid on the ground in dangerous shards. The banisters seemed as though with one touch, they might topple. The same persistent musty redolence hung here too, but it was dominated by the smell of yeast, alcohol, and sweat.
Every piece of furniture was some shade of russet brown and was sagging like an elephant had visited too many times to count. An old dilapidated bar was unclean and sticky like tabletops. Two drunk lady-bartenders giggled and whispered in each other's ears.
The child creeps unnoticed.