He noticed her when she was leaning over the bar before she spoke to him, and how her dress clung to her shape, leading the eyes a little lower, a little lower, just a little bit lower...
He almost choked on his drink when he saw her face, forcing himself to swallow the rest of the drink in his mouth before coughing.
You might see a face or two you recognise lurking about in a city full of unrecognisable faces. It wasn't often that you saw a real ghost. And she must have been a real ghost, because she looked exactly the same as she did when he first saw her. Maybe twenty years ago.
It wasn't possible.
"You-"
The words swirled and rolled around his mind, an incoherent pool of nonsense churning until a more sensible string of words, in English, tumbled out of the mess. Reaching for a gun would come as a much later afterthought.