3

Gotfryd stretched lazily again and decided he probably wouldn't sleep again, as it was tiring him terribly and was having a bad effect on his muscles. So even though night was just falling, he got up and started stretching: first, both arms up... oh, that felt good... and then a bend down... uh... that's so squirmy.

Pfft... pfft... and another... ooo. Maybe just to get the jumping jacks going? Okay.

And that's how Godfrey brought himself to a lively state. Only later did he realize it was completely unnecessary, because it was night, after all. He looked out the window and was terrified by the darkness, its dense flesh covering every crevice, only here and there torn apart by a shaft of light from a street lamp or some apartment. Damn night owls. What do they do when they're awake? Is it the same as me? Are they wasting time? And is gymnastics the same as wasting time? Later, you can boast about biceps and those other muscles whose names I don't know, but I still have them. Ha, sure I have them: here (touches calf) and here (touches stomach) and here (touches his butterfly muscles). But really, gymnastics isn't bodybuilding. No, I don't think I have muscles. Although, if everyone worked out at least as much as I do, we'd look great.

He finally sat down on the couch, tired of the futility of his feeble thoughts, and turned on the television. He was one of the few in his neighborhood who didn't have cable, and I guess in a way he was proud of it; he always liked being that unfaithful minority. So he turned on channel 2, but the movie that was playing didn't really interest him, so he switched to channel 1 and saw The Lonely Hearts Club. No, not that one. He quickly hit the power button and lay on his back with the remote control in his hand.

Wait. What happened today (yesterday)? I think I have something to do… yes, I have to pay a fine. He jumped out of bed and put his hand in the pocket of his jacket hanging in the hallway (just the ordinary hallway of a cramped studio apartment). There it was. I found it. I have it. Indeed: a fine. Since I have nothing better to do, I'll go pay it later in the day. He felt better immediately, but he wasn't getting sleepy. Well, there's probably only one cure for this: tea and a book. And so he did. And it was a pleasant surprise.

Seven in the morning. Anna wakes up, or rather, the alarm clock she hadn't forgotten to set wakes her up, and now she's bitterly and impatiently slamming her hand on the switch. She gets up and goes to the bathroom. Her glued eyelids hurt at the slightest attempt to open them. Cold water seems unavoidable. And indeed, only the cold splashes straight from the tap allowed Anna to more accurately orient herself.

Aleksander lay in the bedroom. He, in turn, rose mechanically and without much difficulty, despite having no apparent reason for doing so.

Anna reappeared in the room. The sight of her awake husband clearly surprised her, because she asked,

"Why are you up?

" "What?" Olek looked at her with an uncomprehending gaze, his gaze fixed deep in her curious eyes, which, however, withstood the test. Olek had to look away, and in that moment it was as if he had just realized what had happened. He glanced at the alarm clock that had just knocked Anna out of bed and was speechless: seven o'clock?!

"Why did I get up? Anna, I don't know. Anna," he said, making gestures as if he were completely fed up with everything, Anna in particular. He quickly covered himself with the duvet and buried his head in the pillow that smelled of his wife's recent sleep. "

Well, it happens to everyone, there's probably nothing to worry about," Anna thought, then began changing and soon left for work.

She kissed her husband's forehead goodbye.

When Olek heard the door lock turn, he immediately stopped pretending to fall asleep again and jumped to his feet. Forgetting his morning routines like toilet and breakfast, he quickly put on his clothes and headed outside towards the WPKM ticket office. He silently cursed his wife for delaying leaving today and for the reason that he might miss the opening, and therefore, the first customer. Oh, how nice it would be if it were Gotfryd.

They were just opening the window, so he wasn't late. Mrs. Lidka wasn't there today, only Mrs. Stenia, so there would be no sarcastic remarks. Despite everything, he stood in a spot where he would be invisible.

And the same thing happened again. He simply waited.

The cold. The frost. Morning. Shivers rippling through his body. Exhaustion. The remnants of sleep on his eyelids. Hunger, sucking all the juices from his stomach. The growing pressure on his bladder. Food digested overnight, now yearning to escape after its arduous journey through the intestines. People passing by. Grayness. Rain. Loneliness. Wrinkled clothes. No hair. Remorse. Desperation. His wife. The rush of everyone around.

Although no, Mrs. Stenia wasn't in any hurry. Quite the opposite. She sat in her chair, in her little window, and with lazy gulps drank the foam from her glass of tea. And she did it all so lazily that when Aleksander looked at her, seeing the rush of gray people in raincoats all around him, he felt as if the world didn't really exist, and the only thing certain, real, and fully capable of existing was Mrs. Stenia's window. A quiet oasis of laziness amidst the furious mass of workaholics.

So why did she fill him with such disgust and aversion, and his only reaction to the sight was sterile sarcasm?

Stop!

There it is!

A man in a raincoat, like any other, approached the window and struck up a conversation with Mrs. Stenia. Ha, she certainly didn't like that. Nevertheless, they talked for a while; Mrs. Stenia had no choice; after all, that was her job, until the man, looking slightly disoriented, began to walk away in the direction from which he had emerged.

Now! This was Alexander's only chance. He knew he had to do it suddenly, without the second-to-second hesitation that only confirmed the grotesqueness of his actions. He couldn't lose now. He had to run, he had to stop him. He didn't know why, but he was certain that this was the only way he could restore his former calm and smooth over all his incomprehensible emotional states tied to this man. And suddenly a beautiful and obvious thought came to him: all this must be for a reason, and it couldn't be without significance. No, this isn't my foolish whim; someone greater than all of us wants me to stop this man and, who knows, perhaps become his friend. Surely, it's necessary for both of us.

However, Alexander's thoughts suddenly lost track, for he moved from his spot and, ignoring the gray backdrop of the scene, headed toward Godfrey with his tongue hanging out. His hand was stretched forward so that it could grab the sleeve of the pursued man as quickly as possible.

"Hey!? What's going on?" The disoriented Gotfryd turned sharply (he had no other choice) toward the pursuer, and their eyes met. But strangely, nothing sparked between them, no secret thread of understanding emerged that would suggest that Aleksander's concerns were truly justified and that his pursuit made sense. No, quite the opposite: they stood facing each other, and both stopped understanding. Aleksander began to wonder what he was doing and whether he hadn't lost his mind, and Gotfryd was, to say the least, impatient, especially since he'd gone to the WPKM ticket office without any need at all.

But it was too late. Too late for any attempts at retreat, which would only deepen the defeat and awkwardness of the situation, and retreat itself would in fact become completely impossible. And Olek knew this. And suddenly the thought occurred to him that the only defense was attack:

"It's me.

" "It's you?

" "I'm the one who gave you the ticket on the tram.

" "It's you?

" "Yes, it's me."

"What? But... wait...

" "And I didn't take it to the ticket office."

"But why? What are you talking about? " "

I wanted to compensate you.

" "Compensate you for what? This ticket?" Gotfryd still didn't know how to behave or which set of gestures was the most appropriate. "You give fines and then compensate them?"

"No, you're the exception. The point is that from the moment I brought you to the sobering-up station, I've been tormented by a disgusting pang of conscience the entire time... Although no, it probably wasn't pang of conscience, I just kept thinking about you.

"Well, well, well. The inner life of a canary."

"No, not at all. I don't want you to misunderstand me." Because of this, I quit my job and will never go back there, and the knowledge that I owe you something is killing me.

"Okay. Let's assume I understand your intentions, I can even admit that you did ruin my night a bit, so what?"

"Mmm... I wanted to buy you a beer.

" "Beer? So you'll redeem yourself, in your opinion, and what about me? I'm asking, what about me?"

Alexander felt he was starting to lose and his only chance was to be honest with him, at least as honestly as possible at the moment.

"I don't know how to put it more precisely, but I have this feeling that I don't quite understand, but it just seems to me that you won't regret it.

" "Should I understand that as compensation and an apology, you're offering me your acquaintance, right?" "That sounds strange, doesn't it? But that's how it is, I'm offering you my friendship, and I think you won't refuse if you know how long I've been waiting here for you and the state of devastation I've reduced my wife to with all this."

"You're right, why should I refuse?"

Gottfried's answer was prompted by a quiet impulse from deep within, telling him that he had always been the one asking (of course, only in his mind, silently) for someone's friendship or romance, and that he had never received it, so now he couldn't refuse.

So he agreed, and they made an appointment, and until the evening when they were supposed to meet, he felt very uneasy and mysterious. What surprised him most was that not once had the thought crossed his mind: what an idiot, and yet that was precisely Gottfried's normal attitude toward other people. Because that thought hadn't occurred, he could rejoice in the thought that perhaps he really wouldn't be wasting his time tonight, and besides, what else was there to do? Read again? Indulge in negative contemplation of his own loneliness and humiliating failures? We'll see, we'll see... except that I have to go back to work tomorrow. And so the circle closed, and from a state of pleasant uncertainty, he returned to the inappropriate thoughts of lack of happiness and the idiotic responsibilities that make life unbearable.

Even Anna, who had been terribly worried about Olek's absence upon returning home, immediately noticed the change in her husband's face. And it was no wonder, because Olek was all smiles from the moment he got home, and the joy this meeting brought him was impossible to keep to himself. "

Olek, you have no idea how happy I am that everything is alright now.

" "Yes, Anna, everything is fine, but, most importantly, it could be even better. Everything depends on tonight.

" "Olek, will you tell me about it?" "

Right away, as soon as there's a moment."

"What does that mean?

" "I mean, not now."

And so they went from word to word.

From word to kiss.

From kiss to kiss.

And the saliva passing from mouth to mouth carried with it a powerful dose of vitality and the joy of Olka and Anna.

And this joy and vitality combined tore them apart from the inside, and they had to do something with it.

And from the kiss to the bedroom.

From the bedroom to the bed.

And the bed welcomed them into its still-not-fully-cooled bed, which now began to warm up anew.

And they were grateful to all those forces and systems they didn't understand, but which had given them what they needed most: each other, the bed, the slippers, the armchair, the room, the warmth, each other, each other, and each other again. And the slippers.

Their bedroom was engulfed in a whirlwind of passion, and it was as if it began to recede into some deep, impenetrable fog (of love?), from which came the sounds of delightful moans, and, every now and then, one could hear "I love you" being uttered from the mouth directly into their partner's ear.

This went on for a while, and each of them wished eternity would descend upon them, but suddenly they faded away completely, and everything fell silent.

There was total silence.

The end. Everything vanished; it was an illusion. An illusion worth a lifetime.

There was the bedroom again, the bed, the bedstead, and Alexander, stroking Anna's head. And their child hadn't kicked yet…

"Anna," Olek's voice shattered the idyllic shell that had hovered for a moment just below the ceiling of their kingdom. "I think I'll tell you everything now."

Anna remained silent. She didn't want to pester him or plant platitudes that would dissuade him. "

The thing is, I've arranged to meet Gotfryd tonight. The guy I ticketed last night and who ended up in the sobering-up ward because of me. Now we'll go for a beer together." You see, I want to compensate him in some way, and of course, it's also, and probably primarily, about selfish motives to clear my conscience. We'll have a few beers and, who knows, maybe we'll be happy...