Chapter 27

Michael was glad that his friend would finally get to see how it felt paying his fines. The first ticket in Alex’ life!

For a moment he forgot about the perfect order in the kitchen. He felt a wild satisfaction that his best friend, whom he treated like a son, would get his first ticket. ‘My blood.’ He thought.

Maybe Alex was caught by one of the patrols, who stopped him regularly after a certain intersection, almost in the very center of the city, near their editorial office. Those road builders knew his crazy driving, especially the unconventional ways of parking.

That patrol used to stop the journalist of their favorite magazine just at the sight of his car and asked for autographs and for him to stop leaving his car on lawns, promenades, flower beds, because they would have to give him a ticket again. They also knew Alex.