The Sunday. 7 in the morning. I go to work. Gai is stopped. They are asked to go to duty. I walk, I sit at the table opposite the goose, who sits behind the compot.
He is:
G – You look strange. have drunk?
and no.
Guyz, striking his eye, stretches into the box of the table, gets from there a piece of newspaper wrapped in a bullet. It stretches me.
G is breathing.
After five seconds of silence, I breathe out in the "alcohol tester". Gajz relentlessly brings the bullet to the nose. He breathes.
G is clean. Let’s try the fines. The name.
- I am embarrassed to ask, and will you send a request by mail?