R54

We see a man. Sitting in a car. Unevenly shaven, his hair graying and overdue for a cut. Absentmindedly he wipes his nose with crumpled unsavoury looking hankie. Gray coat is worn and light blue shirt we see under his suit is not ironed, but freshly unpacked, fact betrayed buy a few stray needles still in his collar. Common passers by scurrying to avoid the rain couldn't clearly see man's face but we do and we can even see the title of a book he is reading. It's "Absolute Zero" by Llewellin Gloom. Though sitting at the wheel, this man is indulging in reading because traffic congestion lasts for well over thirty six and half minutes. He is using car refreshing pine tree as provisionary bookmark.

From time to time, man looks up, but through curtain of rain and poorly functioning wipes he only sees red lights of cars trapped in the jam. He is glad for this traffic trouble, which we notice by the smile in corner of his lips and his voracious reading.

After seventeen pages, this man licks his lips and wipes them with that disgusting handkerchief. He is thirsty. Rain is falling and I'm thirsty. He thought, as if rain were safe for drink. Next moment he scolds himself for this thought. Connection between rain as water and drinkable water is just another proof that you will never become a writer, he thinks about himself. That thought makes him shiver so he slams the book shut. He checks if there is any chance of traffic jam moving any time soon, then forgets the thirst and scolding, then turns the page number eighteen...