In a spacious, bright room with a single narrow passage leading to the hallway and windows shut tight, the air smells of boiled potatoes. The computer is connected to the internet, and outside, spring is beginning.
On the table, not far from the computer, lies a stack of documents—some new, some old. Certain papers, no longer needed, will be thrown out. Others will remain where they are, and, in time, may migrate into one of the labeled colored folders. A thin layer of dust covers both kinds, making the paper darker and the letters lighter.
The tenant walks over to the computer, settles in front of the screen, and within five minutes has grown accustomed to the smell of potatoes. As the screen cycles through images, the tenant’s thin legs coil into a spring. A habitual pose—perhaps to improve blood flow to the brain, but more likely the result of nervous tension. The computer plays footage from a police bodycam, showing an officer overstepping his authority in an attempt to arrest one of the protesters out on the street.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Peleng's back desk to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.