Humor Satire

The Man in the Window by K.O. Dahl

By K.O. Dahl

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It was the kind of apathy that tried to deceive the body into thinking that it had neither the inclination nor the energy to take up cudgels. This duality of the senses - aggression mixed with resignation - gave him the fleeting feeling of suffocation. Yet he understood that this meeting was one of the most crucial moments he had experienced for many years. These thoughts churned through his brain as Arvid's whinnying laughter carried through the hall door and Emmanuel glowered darkly at the wall, presumably on account of Reidar's negative body language.

The old man was still gazing into space as the car drove off. Richard Ekholt instantly switched off the roof light on his car and accelerated. She had crossed the pavement and was now standing in front of the entrance, searching for her key. She turned as he drove past. They exchanged glances. She gave a start and made a movement with her arm when she recognized him. But he drove on. She stared after him. He watched her in the rear-view mirror. The figure became smaller and smaller in the little mirror stained with grease and fingerprints, distorting her features into a hazy shadow.

Dramatic exits such as the one he had just made were quite unnecessary, even though the passion underlined his seriousness and created unrest in enemy ranks. With unbending fingers he extricated a telephone card from the wallet in his pocket, as well as the slip of paper on which he had noted down the telephone number of Ingrid's lover. It rang for a long, long time. 'Yes,' came the response at last. Reidar hesitated, just for a second and no longer. 'This is Reidar Folke Jespersen,' he said. ' The silence on the phone continued.

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