His mouth is distorted with annoyance. He clears his voice and starts drumming with his fingers. They look like the paws of a black widow. In my life, I swear, I"ve never seen anything like it.
"Do you know what time it is?" he says.
My gaze slides over the photo hanging on the wall. There he is, by the sea, with a green jacket and a hat. He is holding a grouper of at least four kilos. It dangles upside down. Butz has a triumphant expression. It"s a novelty to see him smile.
"Where are you with the article?" he asks.
"Good. Very good. I’ve started on it. I just need to know how many characters. How many characters?"
"You know that pagination takes time, and then it has to go to print..."
"I know. What do you think?"
