T
SIMUL
columns a
he outrag
t the same time
eous str
TANEOUSL
atagem of
, possib
reading
Y
le?
Written by Nicholas Matus, to be read in unison
Either side of the postcard is covered in squares, (...) Hours have passed and the sheet of squared
grids and formulas. Grisha puts his pencil on the paper is still blank. (...) We put our pencil on the
desk and looks out of the window. Outside, it is desk and look out the window. We note that the
thick with fog, obscuring the view of the building sun has vanished behind the chimney of the factory
facing his room. Something gives Grisha an idea: facing our room. The chimney gives us an idea: we
for a moment it seems as if he is going to pick up ought to smoke a pipe. One smoke is unlikely to
the pencil and resume work, but he then just leans cause any harm, at best a short break will clear our
forward and unplugs the desk lamp. In the dark of minds and allow us to start afresh. However, a
the room, Grisha scrunches up the postcard, drops glance in our leather satchel reveals that we have
it into his pocket, rises and goes to his closet. He run out of tobacco. We decide to head down to the
gets his jacket, lets himself out of the room, quietly store. (...) We pick up our watch, look for our keys,
descends the stairs and arrives in the courtyard. lock the room, hastily descend the stairs and arrive
in the courtyard. We realize that we have forgotten
He inhales the damp air, then reaches inside the to turn off our desk lamp. For a brief moment we
pocket of his jacket, retrieves a pipe, lights it with a consider returning to our room (it has also crossed
match and takes a few puffs. Light does not our minds that we have probably left our stove on
emanate from a single window of the many rooms too) but seeing that we will be back shortly we
facing the courtyard. This fact, however, escapes decide against it. And what harm, after all, is there
Grisha’s attention as the lighting conditions are of in leaving the desk lamp and the stove on for, say,
little interest to him. And even if they were, the half an hour at most? (...) On the tram we bump
heavy fog would make it difficult to discern. into Bulgakov, who has just stolen a bottle of port
Moreover, it is the dead of the night. Why then, wine from Daniil. We do some in-consequential
should the complete absence of light attract chatting (‘which bakery has the shortest queue’)
Grisha’s attention? and eventually Bulgakov invites us over to his place
for a drink. We mull it over for a bit (after all, we
should be getting back to work) and then agree to
join him for one quick drink (after all, we really
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