The Troubles of Mr. H.

Sunlight fractured on the regular grid of windows, turning the sweat-stained ground into a dancing mist. The air inside the Faculty of Arts building was suffocating, and the occasional footsteps echoing within the confined walls intensified Heidari’s feeling of suffocation. His hands, roughened by the rocky earth, clawed around his throat, causing the blood flow in the arteries of his neck to surge. Heidari loosened his tie slightly and, with an impatient gaze, stared for a long time at the intermittent events passing beyond the window. He sat behind a small desk, seemingly carelessly abandoned in the middle of the narrow corridor.