The light flickers of one of the office's across flickers disrupting the calmness....
picking A man is frantically picking up the contents of a box from the night's pavement. He size-zero looks old as if he came out of a size-zero marathon with grey woman slightly long hair wrapped in a little bow making him look like hair an old woman but he is a man.
His carton box probably broke from the weight that he was carrying the weight. Post-its colored grey the
the business cards spread like salt
down the women straight lines that a gang of drunken down women walk down.
He is plastic picking up papers, plastic folders
little frantically like a little mouse nibbling
on the last bits of mouse cheese. Faster and faster
as if were a disaster were city about to fall upon the city of London.
There are few only a left-few minutes left.
within carton another two carton boxes He is reinserting his property ,
looks neurotically around neurotically serious.
he is that man or woman ( I wonder if I could never tell) who works late at that looks like a living-room that office that looks like a living-room on the right across my window.
It is half midnight an hour past gone and he is now.
left the pavement on nothing from the schedule fall or the break in his schedule.
His agenda packed tight among the official documents rest the official documents.
It is alright now.
You have picked up all of your pieces.
