Yet Again in Another Man's Bed

Marek touched Andrzej's forehead. It was warm. Not hot, but warmer than usual. He measured his temperature with a non-contact thermometer. Thirty-seven and five - not a tragedy yet, but it will have to be followed. Is it already an infection or is it still a drug? How long can the White Lady work? Marek did not know anyone who would not succumb to it, so with sexual activity the drug could work differently than without it. He looked at his watch. It was almost six. It's still a little early to call a doctor you know for a consultation. He'll check the temperature in half an hour and make a call if it rises.

He was tired of the sleepless night and the day before. The police left his neck, but the shadow of Iwo Mężyński, that unfortunate, murdered boy, was lying behind him all the time. This death was definitely premature and unnecessary. Marek, although he did not cause it, had remorse. The boy died on a night when Andrzej was lying unconscious in his bed.