Outside it’s − 60°c

I plod the 48 footsteps to commute back home, the same exact route I’d taken 16 hours earlier – it’s been a long day. The road is thick with ice and shining like pewter with the Blue Wensleydale moon acting as a spotlight following my every weary step. A late night pint at the end of the day makes it all worthwhile, as I think of my career as more of a hobby, a way of life, it’s always nice to sit and have a chat about nothing really when all the work’s done.

The locals who come into the bar are our friends and neighbours, the people who accepted us into the village; The Star has been here long, long before we were ever thought of, we’re only a chapter in the story of its illustrious history.