- Where is Francesca? – Nasha hears Oblak moan as he gets out of bed. She pretends to be asleep, but when he staggers off to the bathroom, she peeks at the radio clock. It blinks at her with green digits - 3:47.

She listens. No sound comes from the bathroom.

The birds might decide to sing any moment now. Mornings here are far too hot, so the birds use the cool part of the night for their song. The rest of the day they doze in shady tree tops, like homeless people...

Suddenly a soft shuffle from the outside brings her back from the brink of a dream. It strikes her that’s just what the sound of man walking around with an axe in his head would be like.

Does Rasap take off the blade of the axe like a cap when meeting new people? What would happen in the next thunderstorm, would a lightning be drawn by that piece of metal in his mind?

It is a concept only someone like Barnabas would profit from: Come one, come all! See the amazing Lightning Rod Man!

The two of them can’t make particularly good use of it. It’s a symbol of the mind and the time they’re losing… Where is he? He should be back in bed by now.

 

Annoyed by his lack of concern for her sleep, she follows the light to the bathroom. He’s in there, lying in his blood.

- Fuck! What are you doing? – she lifts him up against the toilet bowl – Are you okay? What is going on?

- I don’t feel so well – he seems embarrassed.

- We got to get you a doctor – she, in panic, starts for the door, but is unwilling to leave him.

- No, don’t – he grips her ankle – I’ll be better soon.

- But how can you be not well – she kneels beside him, wiping the blood off his face with a toilet paper – we have a deal, we were not going to get sick, you promised…

A thin line of dark red is still running from his nose, he chuckles at a thought he had. Decides to share it with her:

- A lie is not a lie if you say you won’t and then you die – he recites, but she snaps at him:

- Fuck you, why are you talking about dying!

At that moment, not to contradict her, the Hollywood birds start to sing. The sound of their voices only annoys her further. 

Oblak leans on one elbow, attempting to get up:

- But, tell me – his lips stretch in pain – where is Francesca?

 

It only happens she...