Tourist -

"The fog doesn't read the forecast," she shrugged. "You’re the type who likes to be on time, aren't you?"

He looked at his map. 06:00: Sunrise at Charles Bridge. 07:30: Breakfast at Café Savoy. tourist

She stood up and handed him a small, battered brass key. "My nephew runs a clock repair shop three alleys down from the Square. He’s late today because his daughter is sick. If you open the shutters for him, he’ll let you sit in the loft. You can watch the Astronomical Clock from above, away from the crowds. No ticket, no line." "The fog doesn't read the forecast," she shrugged

"The sun?" Elias asked, checking his watch. "The forecast said clear skies." 07:30: Breakfast at Café Savoy

"Three days to see a thousand years of history," she mused. "You’re not a tourist; you’re a ghost. You’re drifting through without touching anything."

"It's not coming," she said, her voice raspy. She was wrapped in a wool coat that had seen better decades, holding a thermos.