In a café on the Dalmatian coast, a middle-aged waitress leans on the bar and takes coffee and unceasing cigarettes for breakfast. The music on the radio is lively so she snaps it off.

There are three customers already there, but they have ordered and been served, so they no longer exist. She fixes her makeup in the mirror behind her, puts her hair up, hoists a serious look.  She reads a newspaper and makes faces at the news. Sometimes she stares out where the sea should be. The fog is so heavy in the morning that one could easily forget the water is there.

Out in the haze, a man in a boat sneezes. Twice. The woman whispers “Na zdravlje” over her ashtray. A blessing he can’t hear for a man she can’t see. She turns a bored gaze to the empty entryway then turns the back music on…