“Hello boss!” Sekretaresha barged in without knocking, placing a takeaway cup and a brown bag on Isa’s desk. “What’s this nasty smell?”
“It’s silicone!” Isa replied.
“Which one had her boops done?” Sekretaresha asked. “Jenny or Liz?”
“None of them! Over the weekend, we had some workers applying new silicone sealant to our windows.” Isa replied. “Besides, I don’t think that neither Lucy nor Jenny is dumb enough to have one.”
“Are you sure about that?” Sekretaresha asked in an overly confident tone. “Last week, I bumped into Jenny and Liz having a chat in the kitchen, doing their usual meaningless conversation complemented by their meaningless gesticulation. Jenny was ranting on about her diet. Then Jenny asked Liz if she could see that she lost 5kg, and guess what was Liz’s reply?”
After Isa indicated that he had no idea by shrugging his shoulders, Sekretaresha mimicked Liz’s reply, “Oh dear, how am I supposed to see something, if it’s no longer there!”
Isa laughed hysterically, before replying, “Plastic surgery is a waste of time for insecure people who thrive on pleasing and improving others eyesight instead of their own!”
“Aha! But you keep forgetting something!” Sekretaresha replied enthusiastically. Plastic surgery is the only investment that no one can take away from you, even after you die.”
“Meaning what?” Alexander replied perplexed, lifting up his head.
“Meaning that you could buy your dream car and enjoy it for several months, before you die from a heart attack. You can’t bring along your car to your grave, now can you?”
“No, I guess you can’t.”
“But, if you have your nose, boops or bottocks done, you can take them to your grave and this is why plastic surgery is the best investment you could ever have!” Sekretaresha replied with a cheeky smile on her plump lips, before dashing off to her desk.
By the time the sun reached its lunchtime position, Isa’s boss, Mr Kryprokurori, the Chief Prosecutor knocked and walked inside Isa’s office with a brand new yellow file case tucked under his arm. As he entered the office, Kryprokurori’s face frowned as he swung his right hand in front of his nose, as one does to move an annoying fly buzzing around one’s head, “Would you mind, if open the window?” Kryeprokuri asked, and pointed his index finger towards Isa’s dish.“I have to dash off to an important meeting and I don’t want my clothes smelling whatever that is!”
“It’s chicken curry, sir,” Isa replied before looking up at his boss opening the window, “Would you like some, sir?”
“Thank Isa! I’m good,” Kryprokuri replied, shaking his bald head glistening under the sunset. “You just go ahead. I’m sorry, didn’t realise it’s lunchtime.”
Isa shrugged happily and resumed finishing his lunch, whilst his boss observed him silently. Despite his bald head, Kryeprokurori looked under fifty. Due to his immaculate white teeth whenever he smiled he looked younger than Isa. Kryeprokurori could not keep his eyes from Isa’s plate.
“It’s fifteen minutes past lunchtime, but I wasn’t able to return earlier. Today’s court proceeding consumed most of my lunchtime and-”
“Yes, I know! Your assistant told me that you were running late. It’s the beach knife attack case, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is!” Isa replied.
“So! Who is it coming along?”
“It looks like the defendant will accept the deal for five years imprisonment , with a possibility of parole after three years!”
“Very good!” Kryeprokurori sighed, his black eyes skittishly darting around Isa’s office while Isa was tidying up his desk.
Isa’s office grew tiny due the packed with additional cabinets and trunks lined up against every single wall. A tidy row of cardboard boxes of files were stacked beneath the window sills. The large desk with a large computer screen and pile of yellow file holders, and two chairs occupied the central area, reducing a significant amount of free space. All in perfect order, everything was neatly arranged and despite it being claustrophobic, Isa’s office was free of clutter.
As Isa lifted the last remains of his plate with his plastic spoon, Kryprokurori asked, “Finished?”
Isa nodded, still chewing on his last bite placing the aluminium dish inside the shiny metallic bin.
Krye Prokurori, turned from the window of the office thinking, tapping the index finger against his pouting lips. Behind him, above the softly tinted glass that took up the entire external wall of Isa’s office, you could notice a stretch of rusted idle cranes. When Isa finished straightening a pile of papers on his desk, Kryeprokurori walked towards Isa, threw the file folder on his desk, before sitting down opposite him. He lifted his shiny brown shoes and landed them over the edge of Isa’s tiny desk, swinging them sideways.
“They have assigned you to that case. It’s a very sad and a solid case, which,” Kryeprokurori paused, and shot up his hand and scratched his gray immaculate head. “Never mind! Just read it and I would be grateful if you could prepare a brief report by Friday. You think you could do this for me?”
“Which case is that?”
“The one that was assigned to you this week. The drunken driver killing the nurse on Rruga Street.”
“I’m familiar with the case,” Isa replied excitedly. “I’ve already started on it, so you shall get the report tomorrow morning.”
“Great, thanks!” Kryprokurori said and left.
With a long, grunting sigh Isa pulled out a blue file from the wooden shelve, with his fist holding a pen ready to make his own annotations, working on it until 11 pm when he printed five pages and slipped them into a white envelope. He hummed to himself as he locked his office. He dropped the envelope on the desk of Kryeprokurori’s assistant, before hopping in the elevator and the the empty streets to reach his home.