Издателство
:. Издателство LiterNet  Електронни книги: Условия за публикуване
Медии
:. Електронно списание LiterNet  Електронно списание: Условия за публикуване
:. Електронно списание БЕЛ
:. Културни новини   Kултурни новини: условия за публикуване  Новини за култура: RSS абонамент!  Новини за култура във Facebook!  Новини за култура в Туитър
Каталози
:. По дати : Март  Издателство & списание LiterNet - абонамент за нови публикации  Нови публикации на LiterNet във Facebook! Нови публикации на LiterNet в Twitter!
:. Електронни книги
:. Раздели / Рубрики
:. Автори
:. Критика за авторите
Книжарници
:. Книжен пазар  Книжарница за стари книги Книжен пазар: нови книги  Стари и антикварни книги от Книжен пазар във Facebook  Нови публикации на Книжен пазар в Twitter!
:. Книгосвят: сравни цени  Сравни цени с Книгосвят във Facebook! Книгосвят - сравни цени на книги
Ресурси
:. Каталог за култура
:. Артзона
:. Писмена реч
За нас
:. Всичко за LiterNet
Настройки: Разшири Стесни | Уголеми Умали | Потъмни | Стандартни

THE CHALLENGE

Yasen Kalaydzhiev

web

The Prosecutor inhaled deeply and said: ‘You lost!’

The famous Mafia Boss wiped the sweat from his neck. This was almost a ritual for him, for he knew that society values a well formed neck more than a well formed forehead. Presently, cornered, he tensely asked: ‘Do I have the right to choose?’

Because he was in control of the situation, the Prosecutor was benevolent: ‘Yes, you have a last choice. You know the qualities of the Lawyers here. You need a strong defence, choose one of them.’

The Boss understood; the Prosecutor was right. He had fought viciously, but his partners were not on the same level and let him down. He tried to light a cigarette, but one of the Cops sarcastically interrupted him: ‘The place is not designed for smoking. And smoking would only worsen your situation.’

The Lawyers laughed obsequiously at the joke. They knew the moment was crucial. The Boss looked at them. One of the Lawyers was sitting on the first row, working with his electronic calculator. The second one was almost grotesque, with the silk bow-tie he was wearing. They didn’t inspire confidence in the Boss. And his Boys, waiting with cell phones in hands behind the fence, couldn’t help him. Apparently, the time for thinking ended, because the Judge, who was the umpire, said: ‘Well, Gentlemen, last game. Take your places, please.’

The players took their rackets and went together to the tennis court, shining like silk in sunshine, to begin the decisive last game in doubles. The victory was very important: it was a matter of honour, but also the winning prize was a full case of Scotch.

 

 

© Yasen Kalaydzhiev, 2003
© eRunsmagazine - translated, 2003
© E-publishing LiterNet, 01. 08. 2003

=============================
First edition, electronic.