In Limon, most of summer days have clear sky and sunrises in which you can descry the sun emerging from the ocean water on the horizon; however, this morning, David couldn't get to see more than 60 feet away. One of the densest fogs he had ever seen docked at the port the previous midnight.
After putting on his shirt and boots, David Romero went out his wooden gate eating a wrapped tortilla filled with rice and beans, which he wanted to get down with a gulp of water when he arrived to the butcher shop.
There had been almost 2 years since our character started selling meat to his town, and he was so proud, for at 18, he had the chance of working at the most popular butcher shop in town, maybe just because it was the only one. Of course, his salary wasn't to envy, but he could maintain his mother, his little sister (Willow) and a cat of which he did't even remember the name of.
When he arrived to the butcher's, he didn't find weird that his boss wasn't there, he supposed the night before, he had drunk too much rum and right now he would be somewhere between unconscious and asleep. He decided to open the job and prepare everything himself, as he already had done many other times.
He got the time to sharpen all his knives when the fisrt customer came in. Limon wasn't very large and David thought he knew all the people in town, but he did't recognize the average height, long haired and tanned and aged skinned man that went in the door. <<Oh, a tourist>>, he thought.
"Good morning" said David, "Anything I can help you with?".
After a long silence that the man used to look at every corner of the room, he said with a careless tone "I'm looking for button".
"I'm sorry, I don't know any..." But before he could finish his sentence, the man interrupted him:
"Jose, doesn't he work here?"
It seemed so weird to David that someone was looking for his boss. "He didn't come today, I don't know where he could be".
The man turned around and started walking carelessly. "If you see him, tell him Bobby came" He said just before disappearing in the fog.
That morning, nobody else came to the shop.
David couldn't stop thinking about that man. He probably was around 35 years old, he had dark eyes and he had non common clothes: a leather long jacket on an old open shirt and wrinkled trousers that ended in tall boots. He wasn't sure about the fact that the man carried a gun into his belt, but what he was sure about, was that he carried a sword. It was impossible for him not to see it, because he loved all kinds of knifes and swords and he was a sharpener expert. The weapon didn't have any sheath and it was hanging on the left side of his belt. It looked like a Spanish cazoleta sword, it was unusually thick and slightly curved though, with one only cutting edge.
