TE16 Turkish Delight

Hakan Günday turned his head to look. What he saw was a belt buckle. Black lettersona silverplate read “FUCKME”. His neck tensed, wrinkled in the back, his eyes retreated halfway into his skull. To see the face of the man standing next to him he had to raise his head the way cats do to catch pieces of meat doled out by the butcher. He saw a pair of gray eyes.

- May I sit?

It was the blond with the weird lighter. Koma had to make a decision. He must invite to the table the man who had pursued him for the past few hours or stand and slam his beer glass into his face. He exchanged glances with Zo. Zo probably assumed that the man was some old acquaintance of Koma’s. Koma made a decision. The wrong one. As usual.

- Sure, why not? Falco, bring us three beers.

Needlefish sat. Leaning over to put his Rossignol bag on the floor, however, he raised his head at the order.

- I don’t drink.

Koma looked at the blond man as though that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

- Are you sure? he asked.

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