TE16 Turkish Delight

Needlefish join Koma. Most of the customers were frozen with their forks in mid-air, grease dripping from their knives. No one flinched. Zo’s eyes had changed into those of a rabid dog. The people with their dentures didn’t want to get bitten. Koma laughed. He was thankful for social security, the education of civilization and expensive suits that were likely to get ripped in a fight. They lived in a part of the world most convenient for games of provocation. The grandchildren of Nazis? Forget it, he told himself. It takes more than the customers of one restaurant for SS officers to start appearing. It takes millions. - What business do we have? Where’re we going? I’ll be in for it if I can’t get any money to give to my dad. No one on this street would ever give me a job again. Give me a cigarette.

- Don’t worry. Everything is under control. Let’s go sit down somewhere. I have stuff to tell you. Didn’t you quit?

- So? What are you, my lung? Move it. We’ll go to Ein.

They began walking briskly. It was getting cold. The street was only as warm as the heat from the streetlamps. Koma unfolded the polo neck of his sweater and pulled it up to his lower lip. His feet knew the way to the bar. They only pointed ahead as they walked. Now and then, also at each other. Zo was mad at Koma. Their last encounter hadn’t exactly been pleasant. He had opened the door on the sight of his girlfriend gyrating on top of Koma. Normally this kind of encounter wouldn’t have been any cause

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