I could have the key to his apartment and go in and make myself at home. I could wear his slippers and drink his liquor and lift up his carpet and count the thousand dollar bills under it. We were in the same racket. The Belfont Building was eight stories of nothing in particular that had got itself pinched off between a large green and chromium cut rate suit emporium and a three-story and basement garage that made a noise like lion cages at feeding time. The small dark narrow lobby was as dirty as a chicken yard. The building directory had a lot of vacant space on it. Only one of the names meant anything to me and I knew that one already. Opposite the directory a large sign tilted against the fake marble wall said: Space for Renting Suitable for Cigar Stand. Apply Room 316. There were two open-grill elevators but only one seemed to be running and that not busy. An old man sat inside it slack-jawed and watery-eyed on a piece of folded burlap on top of a wooden stool.

strasznie mnie

Autor: aphenerg | Kategorie:
07. stycznia 2010 11:31:00

ma byc w poniedziałek, więc mam nadzieję że przyjeła mnie tam na katedrę zebym mogła pisac u nich pracę, i żebym mogła to podanie zanieść do dziekanatu i mieć przez jakiś czas spokój..strasznie, po prostu strasznie mnie wkurwia brak informowania o czymkolwiek nas studentów przez nasz dziekanat,



pn wt sr cz pt so nd

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