2

Alexander, when he returned from his nightly patrols, never turned on the stairwell light. He made his way to his apartment on the sixth floor blindly, though by the third floor his eyes were already beginning to adjust to the darkness, which was fading to gray. But he loved those first three floors the most, where anything could happen, and that was precisely what he was counting on. He often arranged strange situations that could bring him traumatic experiences. So far, however, without success.

Despite his eyesight being accustomed to the darkness, he always had trouble finding the key immediately. He liked that, too. He practiced his cunning, delicacy, and lightness then – all so as not to wake his wife, who, incidentally, never slept until he returned.

And so it was now. She was sitting in the kitchen, listening to the radio. On the table next to her, a plate of sandwiches for Aleksander sat.

Anna was a little startled, or rather surprised, by her husband's face when he entered the kitchen and kissed her forehead. It was somehow uneasy, completely expressionless, completely absent. His eyes were empty, staring, yet unseeing. Anna said nothing, just waited. She knew Olek would tell her everything anyway; after all, they had always told each other everything. He knew that some things didn't come easily to words – she didn't want to rush him.

But Olek started on the sandwiches, and his face returned to its normal state. But she waited. She knew it was a temporary state, his tactic to keep her from worrying. Fine, fine, I won't worry, but you'll tell me anyway, so I'll worry later. I just hope you don't want to leave me, after all, I made you such good sandwiches. Women always think that way when they see something wrong, so of course it always has to be about them, because men can't have other problems. Oh well. That's right, this problem, or rather, this concern, is his, his own, Olek's. But it doesn't mean anything, because Olek will share it with her anyway, after all, they love each other, and love has to be as it should be.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Aleksander asked, taking a bite. It meant: don't wait, because I won't tell you anyway, it's still too fresh, too raw to talk about.

Anna understood perfectly:

"Oh yeah... I was just wondering how your work went today." "

What's the point? The usual: another one without a ticket..."

Aleksander's trivial tone, which detracted from his nighttime work from the dedication and courage it bore, led one to believe that this had been an exceptional night in some way. "

Your nighttime tram journeys are tiring me," Anna said.

"I don't do it for pleasure, after all."

"I suppose so, but you know... you're there, I'm here. I sit here, worrying, the radio is getting boring...

" "Then go to sleep.

" "I won't sleep without you anyway."

"You're loved." Indeed, this news, even though he'd heard it two hundred times already, brought unexpected joy, but it was quickly quelled by the pleasure of biting into another sandwich.

Anna smiled too. What was left of her, anyway: such words usually make you smile. Which didn't mean there couldn't be silence. And so it did.

Aleksander chewed and occasionally sipped his tea, and she watched him, trying to find some false gesture on his face, some grimace that would slip out unintentionally and prove she wasn't mistaken, that there really was something he wasn't telling her. Truth be told, it was beginning to seem to her that the impression she'd gotten was just that, an impression, a fleeting phenomenon, something that had never existed.

"But you admit you're not doing this because you have to," Annie said.

"What?" In that brief moment of silence, Olek had already forgotten what they'd been talking about.

"Well, you're monitoring at night.

" "Oh, you know perfectly well how much they pay for a night like this.

" "We could survive without it too."

"Oh, stop acting like a child. We all have our own age, our own awareness, and we all have a certain responsibility. We all have duties we must fulfill so that..." he seemed at a loss for words. "...Well, so that everything is fine!"

"Fine, fine. I didn't say anything. I just don't know if staying up all night is good for the baby.

"See. You see, she's still a baby. Are you so sure that without my sleepovers, there'll be enough money to buy diapers?"

Anna suddenly stood up and walked over to her husband. She stood behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and whispered in his ear,

"I love you anyway," and went to bed.

Olek, not eating his last sandwich, quickly caught up with her (already in bed) and, asking in a playful, menacing tone: what does "even" mean?, began caressing her and kissing her lightly (also playfully, by the way), until she decided to stop resisting (also playfully, by the way) and accepted him with open thighs.

At twelve noon, Alexander opened his eyes and glanced at the wall clock hanging forty-five degrees to his right. It really was one o'clock. He turned to his left now and... well, it's always the same, he always wakes up alone. Anna sits safely in her office during the day (she probably even earns more than him), and he risks his life checking tickets on the night trams. They've been passing each other for a good few years now, and when they see each other, they love each other. I guess there's nothing strange about that.

Suddenly, it really hit him that it was one o'clock. Damn, I have to get there before... before... Damn, what was his name? His inability to remember the name, or rather the surname, of the man who had been nagging him since last night, who was still sitting, tossing and turning, in his head, didn't stop him from quickly going to the bathroom and leaving the house immediately.

Got it! Gotfryd! Yes! Gotfryd, I think.

He didn't wait for the elevator, as it was terribly slow, and he couldn't afford to waste time, so he ran down the stairs. It's unclear, however, whether this idea saved him any time, as the stairs were terribly crowded: some were going up, others down—not just the young but also the elderly. They all used the stairs because they were a faster means to their destination; the elevators were not only slow, but also frequently broke down. Finally, Alexander emerged from the throng of pedestrians and hurried to the WPKM main ticket office. He walked there because he walked everywhere, and the distance was irrelevant. It was simply that in the middle of public transport, he always felt the eyes of passengers wanting to lynch him for practicing such a despicable profession. It was a feeling—oh, no longer a feeling, but a phobia that couldn't be overcome even by an infinite amount of willpower. And they couldn't afford a car, though he hoped it would only be temporary, but nevertheless, it was a fact. That's why he was wearing a flat tire. "

Good morning, Mrs. Lidka," he greeted pleasantly when he arrived. "There was only one today, but you know what?"

"Yes, Mr. Oluś?" Olek was generally well-liked by women, which didn't always work out well for him; he'd been called a sissy more than once in his life.

"I'll pay that fine right away. "

"Mr. Olek, what are you talking about?"

"Please, Mrs. Lidka, don't get offended. Please don't ask questions. I'll just pay it, and that's it; it was no big deal at all."

"But if that's the case, why did you report the fine at all?"

"Well... because... well..." Indeed, Aleksander hadn't even considered that he could choose not to report it. He's not obligated to do so, and it would be even more rewarding, as his commission is less than the value of the fine itself. "Mrs. Lidka, I'm so stupid."

"Don't worry, Mr. Olek, one here or there, and you'll still meet your quota. You're the best, after all."

Mrs. Lidka's irony was all too obvious; everyone seemed to know that the competition at night was zero. This depressed Olek a bit, but he politely said goodbye and slowly began to walk away. He walked away from the cash register:

Why did I do such a stupid thing? It was all because of all these emotions and stress. What will she think of me now? And besides, why should I care about some damn woman at the cash register? But wait... wait. That doesn't solve my main problem. I have to meet him somehow.

The solution came quickly, because it was obvious. Olek turned back toward the cash register and decided to wait for him here. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait here for, say, a week, but he was determined and probably could endure it.

Gotfryd rolled over and even smacked his lips sweetly. Even though it was already 5 p.m., Morpheus was still watching him.