The Ball. Erik Pethersen
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in the last row, I take the stack of folders from the consumer credit binder and go back to my desk. One, two, three... there are eleven: ten from the puppet and one from Telefin. I take all the documents and move to the middle of the room, towards the multifunction printer set against the glass that separates the room from the corridor. I place the folders on the nearby table. The device is still in standby, I hit the green button to turn it back on. After a few seconds, I read the familiar ready-to scan-text on the small liquid crystal display. I open the first folder, starting to take the staples off and scan the documents.
As I perform these operations, I think about how many things I have discovered in the last few days. An hour was enough to discover a world that stays the same and it is all different at the same time: changes in the traffic flow, different light, different smells and equipment in standby. And it is darker, much darker. The people I meet are also different. Apart from Mauro, who reads the Giornale di Brescia already at around 7:30.
I take out all the contracts from the folders, realizing that in this way the whole process can be faster, I remove the staples from all the signed papers and put in the copies of the documents after each contract. I go through all the documents, making sure that each of them follows the pertaining contract: several photographs run before my eyes and I smile instantly when I get to the last one which portrays the plump version of Tom Sellek that I saw yesterday. On the identity card, the similarity is almost more evident. I realize now that himself and his friend were born in Poland, they wanted a quick cash loan to set up an online dating company.
The appointment with them was not fully relaxing. My feeling of discomfort begun with the description of the business, had gradually increased, until it reached its peak talking about the many cute girls that you can meet online and with the following vague comments, always polite though, about my clothing. I don’t know what the point was, as my appearance wasn’t too flashy. At least, not like the cyber-whores that I am sure pack up sites like theirs.
I make a single stack of a hundred pages and put it all on the automatic scanning unit. I look at the sheets that are swallowed one after the other and appear again after a few moments. I realize that I haven’t bumped into the girls from the fifth floor in the lift that, for several years, I used to meet almost every morning.
Times: it is a matter of times. Maybe he has always been here too, but he would go to the common areas of the building at different times from mine.
Himself: the surprising one. But all this, however, cannot interest me.
2.2 LIFE - TWO
I hear the front door open at the back of the room: it is Serena coming in.
I look at the clock on my PC, which indicates 8:31, while she screams: «Hello Lavi!»
«Hi» I reply in a lower tone of voice and waving a hand to greet her.
I glance over my monitor and see Serena hanging her black fur coat in the closet, then she goes over the desk behind the counter in the hall and stores her bag. I look down at the monitor again and start writing the first e-mail with the list of contracts attached in pdf.
The sound of Serena’s heels distracts me. She is walking to my right down the hall, past the glass window, towards the coffee room. Her body is almost completely hidden behind the plants placed close to the transparent partition. I only notice the highlights of her dark blond shatush protruding beyond the green shrubs and the black heels that can be seen among the vases.
Hi Carmela, I am attaching ten contracts signed yesterday. Do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of further assistance or if it is necessary, I write.
«Lavi, is everything okay? What are you doing?»
«Hi Sere, all right. I’m sending the contracts to Carmela. Are you all right?»
«Yes, all is fine.» She walks over to the window with the cup of coffee in her hand: her slender figure stands out against the light, while I notice that the fog is rising.
I stare at her legs: they look really nice in her tight jeans with those high heels. Lean, but toned. Then I look up.
«Has your son still got a fever?»
«No, I just dropped him off to school, this morning he wasn’t even 36.5.»
«But wasn’t he 39.5 yesterday?»
«Yes, but you know what children are like, they recover immediately» she replies and keeps on looking out the window.
«It depends on the children, I would say. And also on your illness.»
«Yes, I would so. Probably the virus that affected my son was a bit weak and he recovered quickly. Luckily, since I didn’t know what to do with him. I am running out of days off because of his flus...». She turns around.
I watch Serena as she arches her back stretching, she presses her shoulders against the window and pushes her chest up. The quadriceps tighten and show the toned muscles underneath her tight jeans; the back of her feet, hidden by the black nylon stockings, lifts up making her heels protrude from high heels.
«Has your coffee not fully gone into your system yet, Sere?»
«I think I’ll need at least another four or five, or maybe I should change drug» she replies while examining me.
«Aren’t you cold dressed so lightly?»
«No, I’m not: here in the office, it is always around twenty-eight degrees, so I decided to put on my three-quarter sleeves, which are not really three-quarters. You see» I explain pulling the left sleeve down, «it’s the pattern that gets it to stay up, actually if you pull it down, it comes to my wrist.»
«Yes, actually it’s always very hot in here. Anyway, that stretchable three-quarters thing there is really nice, it suits you just fine. Did you buy it at one of your auctions?»
«Actually, no, I got this in a small shop in Verona. A few weeks ago, Amedeo and I went on a trip there» I explain. «Anyway, I asked Teresa just yesterday, but it seems that the temperature of the thermostats is already set to a minimum: you can’t lower it down and it just seems a bit of a waste to me.»
«Yes, it doesn’t make much sense to have such a temperature in winter» she replies as she looks at the pile of documents I have on my desk: her gaze seems to float between the sheets and the neckline on my sweater.
«You know Serena, you just made me realize that I think I left my jacket in the car this morning when I arrived. I just realized it: I must have come up the internal stairs of the building dressed like that and it didn’t occur to me at all.»
«The stairs leading down to the garages are always damp and cold: I think you had something else on your mind.»
«It may be the new time.»
«It probably is. Do you know that today you are even more glowing than usual?»
«Why, am I usually glowing? Like a human torch?»
«Of course, not like a torch» she replies, laughing. «Glowing like...» she says, interrupting herself for a few seconds, «I don’t know: radiant.»
«Anyway, I am the same as every morning, apart from being up an hour earlier and the fact that I forgot my jacket in the car.»
Serena gets closer to the stack of papers and looks curiously at the first identity card placed on top of all the other documents. «Who knows: to me you seem particularly radiant. But who is this here? An Italian Tom Selleck?» she then says giggling. «And what kind of name is this?»
«He’s Polish» she replies. «I too have noticed their similarity. He was here yesterday with his partner to ask for a loan.»
«Seriously, I haven’t seen him go by. Or is he different in person?»
«No, he is the same in person. I think they were here when you were on the corporate health and safety course.»
«Sure, I was out most of the morning yesterday. So,