"Hey Rey, how have you been?" Mircea queried the moment she stepped into the small eating house that was located at the end of the street of the small village market which was always closed as soon as the sun bid his goodbye to the blue sky. There were a handful of people roaming the streets of the small village market in the dark of the night.
"Hello Catalina, I'm doing just fine. I haven't seen you around for a while!" His voice cracked hoarsely indicating his old age. Admiration warmed Mircea's eyes, as she sat at her regular table. A few summers ago, Rey had narrated the story behind how he inherited this eating house from his father. According to that, Mircea calculated Rey had been working in this eating house for almost six decades now.
