Everyday around late-morning was the worst time of day. For it was the time when every stool and table at the Flying Fish Tavern, was occupied by fishermen and recruted saliors fresh out of the air academy. It wasn't so much the crowdness in the tavern, but the smell that made this time of day quite awful to ones senses, and giving them a headache. The customers didn't particularly mind the headache, for two reasons. One: they were so drunk that their sense of smell was numbed and two: that they were the main cause of the headache, for if one was sober enough to breath the noxious smell the only medicine one could take to get rid of the dron in their head was to drink more ale. This usally worked until the next day when one had a hangover and thus repeating the process. The staff didn't mind the smell either. Particually because they work in it day in and day out, but also they were half drunk from the smell of alcholed breath. But one person did mind the smell. She sat at a booth that was tucked away in the front corner of the tavern. Looking out the window, shegazed at the passerbys going about their daily business, all scurrying around like little animals. She watched as the peasent women scultled by with their arms full of the daily groceries and being folowed by her little duckling like childeren. Business men ran to make their departing trollies. Everyday the same thing happened, same time, same people running late every day, you'd think they would buy an alarm clock or learn by now to wake up alittle more earlie. Life in this city was like a sand pit once you stepped foot in it you were sucked into an endless routine of conversations that seemed to be on the same topic for days on end. Ro sighed and turned her attention to the docks that faced the tavern. She smiled as she watched the nobles pick their way through the towers of luggage to board the S.S. Luxury. Ever since she could remember she had always wanted to sail in the open waves of the clear blue sky. Maybe even be able to serve under the command of "The Windslayer" the fastest ship in the fleet. Just watching it took her away from reality into an impossible dream world, until a small tinge of reality pops up then her daydream becomes the truth of the nightmarish reality. But today was not one of those days for free trips to La La La land were clouds made of fluccy white marshmellows and stripped candy cains, it wasn't even the day that was a never ending hour glass, but payday. So who is going to be my next pawn to freedom. She thought while slowly glancing around the room.