3.6 LOST CONTROL - THREEIt is 9:01 am, as shown by the clock at the bottom right of the taskbar; the icon next to it indicates forty-four new e-mails, but I haven’t been able to click on them yet.
I logged into the blood test lab website with the credentials that the tangled-haired girl gave me, hoping for a fortuitous and unexpected speed. No reports, as expected.
I lift my hand off the mouse and notice its convex plastic surface: it’s damp.
I hear the door opening and the heels echoing in the hall make me think it might be Tamara.
I look at the screen and watch the desktop wallpaper as I have been doing for the last forty-five minutes, that is, since the notary came out of my burial recess.
Everything appears still to me. The Barents Sea, which reflects the grey clouds of the sky, i
