19

He looked at his watch, the small black hand points to three, the big one to thirty.

- Why do I look at the clock? I already know perfectly well that it's half past four now, oh, these habits. Joints crunched. Conrod finished all his work at work, he wrote three articles when his other colleagues did not even finish one. I gave my book to circulation, they promised to do it very quickly, we'll see. Conrod packed a laptop into a bag, turned off the working computer, immediately cutting off the power to the surge protector. At the exit, the taxi he called half an hour ago was already waiting for him.

"To the central library," he said to the Arab at the wheel. The driver nodded. The car moved off.

“ Go across the bridge, there’s a traffic jam at the bottom,” Conrod says.

- Chito you chito you, I just came there. Tama is clean. It's longer on the bridge.

Don't argue over the bridge.

- Harasho, harasho. The yellow taxi drove onto the bridge. Driving over the road, the taxi driver saw a lyi