Date: 2007-06-02 01:10 am (UTC)
Nika snorted.

"I ask for administrative support, and I get a couple of prancing uniformed blonds in a catfight."

He inclined his eyes toward Rakitin, who was weighing each of the fingers carefully, using minute motions to calibrate the scales, as if they were priceless caviar.

"What did you get?" he asked, idly, half-joking, toying with a badly rolled cigarette someone had left unsmoked on the workbench.
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The Groznyj Grad Living Novel

December 2010

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