Artiom lurched onward, carefully walking along the lake floor, until he reached the first log — it was exactly at chest level — and pulled the tree towards himself, waving off the mosquitoes.
Quietly swearing, the beaten criminal came by to help him.
“Passport,” he introduced himself.
Passport had a few pimples on his face and two more on his neck. His lower lip drooped. Artiom wanted to take it with two fingers and pull it up to his nose.
The criminal offered his hand and as Artiom shook it, said mockingly, “Take five, the GPU will take ten.”
Artiom breathed in deeply and said nothing.
“Fine, don’t piss in your pants, piss in the water.” The criminal wouldn’t back down and kept looking at Artiom.
“Are you going to continue with your proverbs or, maybe, let’s get to work?” said Arti
