Mina sat at the worn wooden bar of The Drunken Duckling, a cosy pub with dim lighting and the hum of quiet conversations filling the air. Her fingers traced the rim of a half-empty glass of wine, her cheeks flushed with a warmth that hinted she was a little tipsy. She swayed slightly on her stool, a soft, contented smile playing on her lips as she chuckled at a joke the bartender had just made. The amber glow of the old-fashioned lamps above reflected in her eyes, giving them a dreamy, faraway look as she savoured the pleasant haze of the evening.