I didn't mean to. It was just a quiet pint at first but now I can't stop myself. I keep finding myself making excuses to go back for more. It's only in the village up the road. I go there by myself; to enjoy a quiet hour on my own in the corner with a drink, while the locals chat around the open fire. I smile and share pleasantries with them, but they don't know me. I like being the outsider here: welcome, but not yet part of the community.