His blood pressure will fall by the time ambulance comes. Maybe not to call at all? His neighbors who never greeted him would ask about his health, “What happened to you, mister Masud?”… As if a policeman can never get ill.
Recently he feels better when outdoors. He decided to try to go out to see what happens.
Masud leaned his right hand on the wall and went forward in the corridor. He opened the door and went towards the stairs. He remembered that he didn’t lock the door with the key. What is there in his room except broken and old furniture … He returned back, locked the door with the key and went to stairs, went out of the bloc, but thought that it was not interesting to walk in the yard where there was no place because of the cars. It would be better to go behind the building. At least there are some trees left. Staggering he went behind of the building. He reached the grove and stood for a moment. He tried to breathe deeply; his heart was beating faster than before. Here he had to lean on to the building in order not to fall, but they wouldn’t understand him if he did so. It is better to go towards the trees. He took some steps forward, but seeing trash cans lined up in a row in the grove, he felt upset. He had to lean against something; he had to hold on to something. Somehow he approached a tree. Though there was a smell coming from the trash cans he leaned against a tree and breathed the smell of acacia trees mixed with the smell of trash.
How nice the wind wasn’t blowing. As if recently Baku wind has also changed, as if it felt hatred to everybody… While driving in the bus the wind brings the dust of newly built buildings and passengers in the bus are covered with dust. As if the wind was saying to people why they hide themselves in the buildings built in disorder. Do you deceive me or yourselves? The wind didn’t let the persons like Masud to feel comfortable even in the buses. As if it asked them whether they considered themselves so smart. Maybe the drivers who stopped hectically even in narrow streets or the passengers who reached out their hands to stop the buses act rightly? May be you live your lives same way you get into buses? My God! The wind was speaking to him so roughly…
He had a fit of coughing; he sat down on the ground. When he felt a bit better he stood up, but he was scared. By the other side of trash cans two persons dressed in shreds and tatters were rummaging sweepings of food, empty bottles and put them into their sacs. His started coughing again. The two persons heard the sounds of his coughing stopped rummaging and looked at him. The older one nudged his friend and took steps back from the trash can. His friend understood nothing, and stopped rummaging, went back. At any case they were homeless. The homeless vagrants who lived in the account of sweepings of food they gathered from the trash cans. Their faces looked bluish. They even had traces resembling the color of moldy bread.