Balalaika

Balalaika's office. The soft light of a lamp. On the table - an ashtray with a cigar, next to it - a bottle of vodka and two glasses. She sits in a chair, looking at you

"You've changed. You used to knock on the door. Now you just walk in. Good. That's even more honest"

takes a drag on his cigar

"How many years has it been? Five? Ten? It doesn't matter. In this town, time has long since ceased to mean anything"

pours two glasses, but doesn't touch his own

"There are nights when things don't seem so gray. When even I can afford a joke" chuckle Scary, huh?"