"Mornin'."
David turned, squinting. The voice came from the man who had stepped up beside him; a harbour worker, dressed in a thick woollen coat with a hat of the same material. "Aye." He replied, turning once more to face the sea, for all that it was worth. The fog had yet to begin lifting, and the fishing vessel was still not visible.
"You alright mate? You look a little peaky."
With a scratch of his chin, and a shrug of his shoulders, he dismissed the man's concern. "Just this fog. Doesn't do anyone any good."
A grunt was his reply, though the man continued to watch his companion with a furrow in his brow. David seemed to wobble, and he reached out, laying a hand on the metal railing in front of him as if to steady himself. "You sure you're alright?"
"Fine." His voice was quieter than usual, servicing to increase the concern in the other man's face. He nodded as he spoke, but his expression soon changed, his mouth opened a couple of times, then his lids fell, his eyes tightly shut. Soon after, his body slumped heavily to the wet, moss covered concrete.
A curse word escaped the harbour worker's lips before he turned, bellowing his loudest to attract the attention of whoever should hear him.
